


Of Farms Fairs And Fame

by TalesOfOnyxBats



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Music, Country Singer Azula, F/M, Fair, Gardens & Gardening, Horseback Riding, Horseback Riding TyLee, Music, countryside
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2019-11-16 04:37:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 31,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18087587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalesOfOnyxBats/pseuds/TalesOfOnyxBats
Summary: Modern AU: The avatar characters are all simple country folk. Sokka helps Katara and his mother support his farm in hopes that this harvest will be enough to keep them fed. A little ways down the road, Azula hopes to make it big in the country music world. All the while Tylee hopes to win the horseback race at the county fair her family is hosting.





	1. A Fine Day For Field Work

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my older fics from over on fanfic.net. I decided to start updating it again after like 3 years.

The boy from down the road with his pickup truck and charming smile was Azula's childhood friend. As a girl her father would let her wander, barefoot, down the road for a few miles to go and see him. Of course, Zuko was always lingering somewhere behind. He wasn't too thrilled that he had to watch her instead of playing with Mai or Tylee. But that was okay because Mai and Tylee were her school yard friends first. The first time Azula met Sokka was when she'd snuck out of the house and got herself lost. She stumbled upon their summer barbecue and bonfire party. She was only three, maybe four. And she spent the whole night chasing fireflies around his backyard and stuffing them into unused jam jars. By morning Sokka's mother had contacted Ozai and she was on her way home supplied with homemade waffles and strawberry jam. Katara and her mother had made it special. Naturally she and Zuko took a stern yelling; Zuko for not watching her and Azula for leaving the yard in the first place.

To this day Azula would often make her way down the road, when chores were in short supply, to watch her childhood friend plow the fields or unload bales of hay down from trucks. His skin was always a shade or two darker than normal after hours in the sun. And lordy, lordy the way the sun accented his muscular arms.

With a 'woo-wee, it's hot today', Sokka swiped at his forehead with his gloved hand.

"My bad." Azula grinned as she hopped over his picket fence. Her boots hit the grass with a soft thud. Costly cowgirl boots at that, Ozai would surly kill her if he found out how close she'd just come to landing in the mud. He'd kill her twice over for making the offer she was about to. "You look like you got yerself a lot to do today."

Over the country music he had blasting from his pickup, he couldn't hear her. Not until she stood right beside him and repeated her greeting louder than necessary.

"Yup, almos' harvest time." Sokka replied. He cranked the car stereo down a notch or two.

"Well lucky for you, daddy recruited Zuko to do the field work this year and Zuko sweet-talked Mai into milkin' the cows. Unfortunately, TyLee and her sisters have some preparations of their own to make. I hear that her family is holdin' our annual county fair this year. I reckon TyLee is practicin' her ridin', she really wants the blue ribbon this year."

"I heard about that too." Sokka stabbed his pitchfork into the ground.

"Which means I have nothing else to do." Azula flounced down onto the nearest square of hay. "I could give you a hand."

"Well I already good 'n got mos' the animals fed. 'Sept the chickens." Sokka replied. "Ma and Katara's already tended the garden. They're werkin on the pastries. Ma's got a killer pie cookin' she reckons we'll win the baking contest this year. 'Stead of the BeiFongs and that adopted boy, Aang."

Azula considered for a moment. "Perhaps you will. But ya'll going need some help if you wanna do that." She plucked a piece of hay from her shorts.

Sokka rubbed the back of his head. "Well what I'm sayin' is that all that's left ta do is the combine work and…" He gave the bale of hay a pat. "Movin' hay about."

"Remember when you told me that I couldn't fish none, 'cause I'm a girl?"

Sokka nodded.

"And then I won the fishin' contest?" She added with a lazy flick of her hair.

"What that got ta do with this here conversation?" Sokka questioned.

"I think that you think, that I can't drive a combine harvester." Azula half sing-songed. "Well I guess I'm just going to have to get to provin' you wrong again." She shot him one of her snide smiles.

"A'right then, go ahead." Sokka brushed a hand over her hair. "If ya ken start the combine, you can use it. But only 'cause we gota lota work ta git done yet." He handed her the keys and watched her climb up and into the large machine. She took her cowgirl hat off and set it to the side.

"I'll have yer crops done in no time Sokka." She guaranteed. With a smile, a promise, and a healthy dose of friendly competition she got to work.

Sokka shook his head and chuckled. Ever since that girl found her way to his family's farm, she impressed him. She was a girl with her heart set on making it big in the country music world. He cranked the radio back up, he hoped that he'd one day get to hear a song of hers while he went about his daily tasks. But all at one she could work a farm as good as any. And despite childish banter he had his suspicions that she knew her way around the farm work and machinery better than he did. He rolled his eyes and brought down another bale of hay.

Between she, the horse-savvy TyLee, and Mai with her surprisingly green thumb, these ladies were going to run he and Zuko out of jobs for sure. Whether Azula's father wanted her to or not.

The sun was finally coming into full view, the last traces of early morning brightening into afternoon. He watched the combine and it's dutiful driver, make good time going up and down the field. His stress fell away; maybe, just maybe he and his family would make enough cash to get by this year.


	2. And For Cleaning Stables

Azula perched herself upon the picket fence with an empty tin bucket in hand.

Swinging her legs in the air, she looked at Sokka. "Anythin' else you need me to do?"

Sokka looked around. "I think that's 'bout it." He took the bucket from her hands and set it to the side. In place of the bucket he rested his own hands. "Thanks fer yer help. Gotta lot more done then I thought I would."

Azula cocked her head, "you mean I got a lot more done then you thought you would."

Sokka slung an arm around her neck nearly knocking her off of the fence. With his free hand he playfully drove his knuckles into her head, the way he always did with Katara. Azula wasn't all that different from her, when it came down to it. They offered the same type of laugh and smile at his playful banter. The only difference was that when Azula fought back, she'd usually have him pinned to the floor until he threw his hands up in a mock surrender. Today, however, was one of those days where she simply let him finish ruffling her hair, maybe offer him a punch to the arm, and carry on talking.

"After all I done did all of the hardest work. All y'all did was carry 'round some hay. I was actually in the field." Azula pointed out.

The girl wasn't wrong, she'd gotten nearly all of the harvesting done. A ton of wheat and even more corn. All he had to do was get Hakoda to double check her work and begin the process of selling the harvest. This year if all went as planned he'd be able to pick and choose which foods the family would keep.

"Ya got any werk you need done on yer own farm? I could help." Sokka offered.

"Don't be silly, Sokka. You know that daddy has someone ta do that that for us should ZuZu not finish. But believe it or not, ZuZu usually does get everythin' done." Azula shrugged. "I ain't allowed to have any fun, 'less I come over here." She rolled her eyes. "Speaking of, I best get back home. Gotta wash off before daddy gets home. He'll throw a mighty good fit if he catches me like this." She motioned to her muddy clothes and knees and dust coated cheeks.

"What's he got 'gainst a lil dirt?" Sokka asked. "Shows you bin workin' hard."

"It ain't so much that I been workin'. He's just getting' tired of buyin' me new clothes over 'n over. I think he's also tired of waitin' for the shower."

"So yer allowed ta werk the fields 'nd the animals, long as ya don't git dirty?"

"Som'in like that." Azula shrugged. "That's the problem though, can't get anythin' done 'less you get messy."

"Suppose yer right." Sokka agreed. "But ya can't stay even jus' a lil longer."

"Well, I also told TyLee that I'd help her tend her stables." Azula replied. "I would tell her that somethin' came up, but I think she needs me. Sometimes I think that, that girl can't tell a garden hoe from a rake."

"Maybe I could stop by some time." Sokka suggested.

"Well that's up to you." Azula snatched up her cowboy hat and leapt off of the fence. "I'll see ya 'round, Sokka." She winked.

Sokka watched her walk away until her body became an indistinguishable speck off in the distance.

.oOo.

TyLee gave the reigns two swift flicks. As her horse, a beautiful and graceful gypsy horse, rounded the bend, she hugged her legs tighter to the horse's side. With the swift turn the gypy's mane fanned out. The fur adorning it's four muscular legs fluttering in a similar manner.

She was nearly at the end of her morning ride. All she had to do was bring Kahnim to a stroll and leisurely take the forest route black to the stables. TyLee had been riding Kahnim since she was a little girl and had learned that the horse liked to cool down using the forest route. She took her hand away from the reigns briefly to flip her braid back over her shoulder. "You did good taday." TyLee beamed at the horse, stroking her neck lovingly.

She brought the horse to a halt, listening to the clomp of his hooves against the dusty gravel path. She carefully leapt to the ground and took hold of the reigns again. From there she'd lead the horse back into the stables.

"Looks like Kahnim is gonna get some extra exercise today."

"Azula!" TyLee let go of the horse and ran up to Azula, squeezing her long-time friend in a tight embrace.

"Alright, alright! That's a'nuff Ty." The girl couldn't even begin to fathom why TyLee still got so excited every time she saw her.

"What are you doing here?"

"You asked me to help you get to cleanin' the stables. Remember?" Azula put her hands on her hips, tilting her head slightly so that her bangs fell into her face some.

"Oh yeah. That's right!" TyLee recalled. She gave the horse a few pets, "alright looks like you do get more play time."

The horse whinnied. TyLee sighed, "well we have to clean yer stall, boy, ma and pa have been tellin' me ta do it for a while."

"I suppose it'll be good for him to get the extra outside time, with the big race commin' up 'n all." Azula remarked as she watched the horse trot off to join his companions.

TyLee lead the duo into the stables.

"When did you last clean this!?" Azula scoffed at the stench.

"Oh I'm sorry, Azula! It's been a while. I'm not very good at this." TyLee winced.

"Well you're gonna have to make it up to me sometime." Azula smirked. "How 'bout this? As punishment, you get to muck the stalls. I'll do everythin' else." Azula picked up a stall fork and handed it to TyLee.

"Yer so mean 'Zula." TyLee pouted.

"And ya'll need to learn to clean your stalls more regularly." Azula countered. "Now, you use that", she pointed to the fork, "to get clean out most of the hay. Might need a shovel to scrape what remains. 'N you put it the hay in this here wheelbarrow. After you do that, I'll lay down the new beddin'." At this, Azula snatched up a pitch fork.

Upon noticing TyLee's pout, Azula made another offer. "If you can muck out the stalls, I'll even stick 'round and help you clean the horses themselves."

TyLee considered, tapping her chin. Well it did mean more time with Azula...  
"Alright, I'll try my best."

Azula rolled her eyes, she'd probably end up finishing the job. But somehow it didn't matter, she'd grab a shower at TyLee's place afterwards and then tell her father that she'd simply decided to give riding a try.

TyLee hugged her again, "thank you so much, 'Zula."

"Work now. Hug later." Azula tilted her hat and pointed at the fork.

TyLee nodded. "So how's Sokka? You see hi. Lastly?"

"Yes I seen 'him. He's doin' well." Azula answered, she'd engage her friend so long as it kept the girl on task.

"Of course you've seen him." TyLee winked.

"I was helpin' him finish some of his field work." Azula replied nonchalantly.

"Right that's what you been doin'." TyLee began making childish kissy faces.

Azula lifted the pitchfork, pretending to hit her with it. "It ain't like that."

"Ain't it?" TyLee giggled, she'd finally gotten her first scoop of hay into the wheelbarrow.

"There ain't nothin' 'tween me and Sokka." Azula insisted.

"If you say so." TyLee shrugged. "Guess next time I wanna know I'll have to ask Mai or Zuko."

"They'll tell you the same." Azula replied. Even so, images of lovely summer nights filled her brain. The ones that had her stomach fluttering pleasantly. Sokka had a certain something about him that Azula liked. Liked more than she normally would. "Ain't nothin', trust me."

"You aren't gonna write a song about him?" TyLee asked.

"I will sit this pitchfork down and leave you to clean this yourself." Azula threatened, knowing good and well that she wouldn't actually abandon TyLee. Not so close to the fair anyways.

She'd put up with the girl's teasing and chatter until the job was done. And then she'd be heading to Sokka's again the next morning. She had been promising him for weeks now, that she'd show him a song or two.


	3. Sundown For Songs

Azula chewed the tip of her pen and let out an exasperated sigh. Each and every lyric she put on paper sounded too sappy or too cliche. And if it didn't sound like that it sounded just plain stupid or overdone. She groaned and buried her face in her hands, her long nails digging somewhat forcefully into her hair line. She promised Sokka she'd have a song for him tomrrow and she wasn't one to back out of her promises. Perhaps she could dig up an older song. She frowned to herself. All of her old lyrics were just as awful, if not, more so.

I should have burned those years ago. She thought to herself, think mostly of one particular song that she wrote upon catching Zuko and Mai making out in the chicken coop. She cringed-at both the memory and the terrible song it inspired.

The siblings promised not to speak of it again. After all, Azula refused to be associated with that musical disaster and Zuko and Mai were content to forget that they tried making out in a chicken coop. Who makes out in a chicken coop anyways? Azula wondered.

She looked back down at the black sheet in front of her and groaned. No wonder she wasn't getting anywhere with this whole musical career thing.

Perhaps she should just take a break. Azula, pushed out her chair stood up and stretched. She wandered over to the window and climbed onto the roof. Just one more thing that her father would yell at her for if he caught her doing it. At least this time she knew he only yelled because he cared. But she'd been sitting on the roof for years and she never even came close to falling, so she didn't quite understand what the big deal was.

A soft breeze fluttered her hair and sundress. Azula frowned, the days of sundresses were nearly over-really they should have been over months ago, but they were having a pretty warm autumn so far. She gazed up at the mid-afternoon sun. It warmly touched her skin and cast a warm golden haze over the rolling green of her backyard. She decided to take it in whilst she could, after all the grass would be dead soon. Azula's eyes wandered to the shadows cast by the sun; trees and barns among other things. And the swing set she and Zuko used to use all the time. The pair still used it on occasions when they had things that they wanted to talk through.

Maybe she would invite Sokka over to her place this time. They could sit on those swings as she played her guitar. Sokka hadn't been to visit since they were kids of ten. "Such a long time." She murdered to herself. From somewhere in the yard came the call of a sparrow, answered moments later by it's mate. Azula closed her eyes, taking in the smell of hay, honeysuckle, and hot, dry, grass. The kind of grass that one can normally only get on a smoldering summer afternoon.

With one last glance over the rolling fields, Azula slipped back into her bedroom, opting to leave the window open for the breeze to flutter her curtains.

That's what she'd write her song about. The wind in the curtains and the sun on the hills. And nothing but-no deeper meaning, no metaphors, just the feeling of a weirdly warm autumn afternoon. She picked up her pencil and began to jot a few things down, mostly of the images and feelings she wanted to touch on. Just so she wouldn't forget them. Heaven knew that the song would come out rushed if she tried to squeeze all of her ideas in without putting them in order first. She made a separate note to remind her to make a song of this sort for the other three seasons.

This truly would be a good place to start; nothing deep nor sappy. Nothing that she poured her soul or secrets into. Not that Azula ever considered releasing a song that got too personal. She sent Sokka a quick text before getting to work.

.oOo.

Sokka was in the garden when he got her text.

"I think this un's jus' perfect." Katara plucked a ripe tomato. "Ma said the tomatas would be good this season." She picked a smaller one, wiped it on her shirt, and took a bite. "They taste great too." She held it out to Sokka.

"I'm the meat 'n sarcasm guy, not the veggies 'n satire man."

Katara rolled her eyes, "it wouldn't kill ya ta eat yer vegetables once 'n a while, Sokka."

Sokka shrugged. "I dunno, I might jus' be 'lergic to 'em."

"If you's allergic to vegetables then ya wouldn't be a good farmer now would ya?"

"Fair point." He replied. "But I don' have time for eatin' veggies. Tell ma I'm goin' ta Azula's."

Katara puffed up her cheeks and fixed her face with a pout. "Yer always hangin' out wit her. Wad' 'bout Aang 'n Toph?"

"I reckon I hang out wit them more. 'N sides, I'm wit ya more 'n anyone else." He ruffled her hair.

"I don' care Sokka!" Katara protested.

"Jus' cos she bullied ya a few times in middle school. She ain't done it since."

"She ain't apologize fer it either." Katara pointed out.

"She ain't never 'pologize ta no one. That's jus' who she is." Sokka recalled all of those times she'd landed him on his ass during their childhood play fights. He still didn't get even one sorry. But then again, neither did she.

Sokka parked his truck in Azula's driveway and wandered into the backyard. Azula sat, accented by a halo from the setting sun, upon the right swing. Her guitar propped against the swing's frame. Upon noticing him approach, Azula greeted him with a wave. He couldn't make out the expression on her silhouetted face.

"It's been a while since you've come 'round here." Azula noted. "The bench is new, uncle han' made it for us."

"It's nice, yer lucky yer uncle can make neat things fer ya."

"Well come on, take a seat." Azula pushed the swing over to him and as he sat, picked up her guitar. She plucked at each string, making sure that they were in perfect tune and began to sing.

Her eyes never seemed to leave the strings as her fingers glided gracefully over them. She looked serene, more so than Sokka had seen her in a while. After a few more cords came her voice; soft, light and with a honey like quality. Dream-like, if he dared say. She looked up and smiled at him as she played the guitar solo. And then came those soothing vocals. If sound could be visualized her voice would gold like the sun behind her; warm and vibrant, Joyful in a mellow way. With one final strum, she set her guitar back upon the swing's frame. "Course that's just the first version, might get to changin' it later."

"Why would you change it!? It's perfect."

"Not nearly." Azula muttered. "Yer the first person I sang to, ya know? 'Cept for ZuZu and father."

"Ya haven't even sang ta TyLee?" Sokka asked.

"Nope, not yet."

"Why not?" Sokka questioned.

Azula shrugged. "Jus' cos. Sometimes I don't think I can come up with anythin' worth singin' for other folks yet."

"Well, I liked it. There ain't many good songs 'bout fall." Sokka replied, watching as a grasshopper flung itself over Azula's foot and onto a nearby flower.

"You should write a song about a grasshopper."

"Now why'd I ever do somethin' like that?" Azula asked.

"Jus' tryin' a help." Sokka shrugged.

"Eh, you jus' shut up 'n listen, will ya?" She smirked. At least now she knew that one person enjoyed her music.


	4. The Simple Days

The pair sat quietly for a good long while after she finished her song. Azula faced the setting sun, and Sokka had his eyes on its reflection in the pond. He wished that he had a pond in his backyard. Azula absently let her legs kick forward and backward, mirroring the gentle arc Sokka's swing made.

"Well it wasn't totally awful was it?" Azula asked.

Sokka tapped his chin. "Well, not completely." He smirked

"I hate chu." Azula grumbled.

"Fer what though? I said it weren't horrible."

"Al'right, Sokka." She reached her hands out, set on giving him the shove of his life. But instead the swing bucked back and she ended up falling onto him instead. With a thud and an 'umph', the pair landed in the ground.

"Well ya did'n have ta tackle me!" Sokka huffed.

"Didn't I?" Azula asked wedging her knee slightly into his stomach.

"Oh so we're doin this again?" Sokka asked. He tried to shove her off, but this time she had him quite firmly pinned. "Kay, okay y'all win this round. I surrender."

"Then take it back."

"Take it back? Kay, yer songs are actually mighty awful." Sokka dared.

Azula squinted at him. "That's it Sokka, now yer in fer it fer sher." She punched him on the arm, giving him just enough of an opening to switch positions, so that she was almost pinned to the floor. His victory was short lived, for Azula squirmed her way out of his grasp and pinned him down again, this time face down.

"A'lright." He huffed. "I take it back, I liked yer song."

"That's what I thought." Azula rolled off of him and onto her back. She set her hands behind her head and peered at Sokka.

He laughed. The pair hadn't done that since they were kids. Not all out roughhousing; rolling around on the ground until they could smell the grass on their cloths and skin. He told his mother that he would be back within the hour. He had every intention of keeping his promise, laying there with Azula meant everything to him. Even if she didn't know it. He could work on the farm any old day but spending time in her backyard only happened once in a while. Especially on a day like that one. The last of the sun's rays fell over Azula, kissing exposed skin from her face and arms to her lower torso and legs. The sun's reflection perfectly highlighted the gold in her eyes. As the sun sank, he swallowed down his hesitance and took her hand. She stared at him for a moment but didn't draw back. She had just told Tylee that there wasn't anything between she and Sokka. Yet when his hand cupped hers, she wanted nothing more than to keep it there.

From somewhere off in the distance came the smell of burning leaves. "Smells good don't it Sokka? It's one of my favorite things, when the neighbors get to burnin' their leaves. If you wanna come on back tamorrow, Mai, Tylee, and I are gonna do the same. After Zuko rakes of course."

"I'll see what ma has planned." He replied.

For a good long while they lay in grass, silently watching fireflies rise form grass. Somewhere down the line Sokka pulled his radio out and put on his favorite station. "Ya really oughtta get an iPod, stead of carryin' that ol' thing around." Azula remarked. "I'll go out 'n get ya one myself."

"I ain't need one. I like my radio jus well."

"Wach ya mean to say is that you done convince yerself that ya like it so ya wouldn't feel bad 'bout not having an iPod like the rest of us." She stated as a firefly drifted lazily by, she reached out and grabbed it, cupping it in her hands. And just like she had when she was a girl, she sat up and held it out for Sokka to see. It set her hand a glow. The tiny bug crawled over her skin, occasionally illuminating her palms before it finally crawled to her topmost finger and flew off to join its companions. She lowered herself back into the grass and watched the bugs swarm about in luminous clouds. Somehow they reminded her of watching fireworks on the 4th. Ozai was off on some kind of business or another—Azula couldn't recall what exactly it was that he had gone off to do. So Zuko took that as his opportunity to speed down all of the backroads with Mai in his new car. He was sixteen at the time, Azula recalled. When they got back the pair carried armfuls of fireworks, the kinds that weren't exactly legal.

Tylee and Katara stuck with the sparklers. She, Zuko, and Toph got their kicks out of lighting the most explosive roman candles that they could find. Of course that was the day Toph lost her eyesight, but as with everything else, the girl handled it like a champion. In fact she'd even finished celebrating with them before even mentioning anything.

The girl's parents took it way worse. That's why she and Toph hadn't talked since—apparently she, Zuko, and Mai are off limits. Whenever they wanted to talk she'd have to pass notes along through Aang.

But the night up until that moment had gone so smooth; Sokka called up Haru from the town he used to live in and Haru called Jet…soon the whole neighborhood and then some were at their house. Haru displayed some wicked barbecuing skills, Sokka made sure everyone knew that. And Aang proved to be a cornhole champion, he'd only beaten Zuko twelve times that night—and in front of Mai too. Azula was the only one who even came close to beating him.

There were parts of that night that were a little fuzzy—mostly the parts that came after Chan brought the 8 packs. Sokka still insisted that she had made a move or two on Jet.

Somehow she and Zuko had managed to clear everyone out before Ozai came home, and only found trouble when Toph finally fessed up about her vision troubles.

Those were such simple days. The siblings still hosted their own 4th of July festivities, but none of them came close to the feeling of that night. Azula watched the cloud of fireflires burst apart and go their separate ways. "I reckon, we should do it again some time." Azula put out briefly.

"Do what?" Sokka asked.

"Get Zuko to go find some more fireworks. Send daddy off somewhere. And throw a big party."

He chuckled. "Yeah, maybe we ken even smuggle Toph in wit the beer."

Azula shrugged. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind none." She plucked a strand of grass. "Maybe if Tylee wins her blue ribbon, 'n yer family wins yers, we can throw a party to celebrate."

"Guess I'm really gonna have ta git ta winnin' now." Sokka squeezed her hand.

"You best do that." Azula stood up and brushed the dirt off of her knees. She picked up her car. "Ya need a ride home or did ya bring yer truck?"

"I walked her but I ken walk back."

"Did ya promise yer mom that y'all would be back home 'for dark?"

She'd caught him again, "well I mighta."

"Well then you best get in my car, I ain't havin' you banned from my house too." Azula grabbed his hand and led him out front.

"Guess I'll git to spend a 'lil more time wit ya then." Sokka gave in. "'Sides, I never did drive wit y'all 'for."

"Well then get ya in the passenger's seat." She opened the door for him. "Idiots first."

"Ha. Ha." He rolled his eyes. "This is purtty nice." He mentioned. He didn't see her as the type to drive a pickup. But it suited her well. Unlike his, hers was in top condition—not a dent nor scratch on its red paint. The only sign of its use was a light film of dirt on and around the tires. The next time he came back they'd probably be nice and clean once again.

Azula positioned herself behind the wheel and started the truck. "Now, y'all better not come back here 'til yer sure that yer mom's gonna win that ribbon this year. Y'all really do need that prize money."

He knew that tone of voice. It was the tone of voice that told him that he could knock on her door all he wanted—he could knock the day and night away—and she still wouldn't answer. Not until his family won. It was that tone of voice that told him that she would be sharpening her own skills to win her own ribbon and helping Tylee with hers. He hated that tone. He hated the tough love. But that's what he knew he was getting himself into right from the start.

"I'll see ya at the fair then." He said as she pulled the truck to a stop.

She rolled her window down. "See ya 'round, Sokka."

And she took off, the dying summer breeze fluttering her hair. She was singing along to the radio as her truck picked up speed, kicking up dust, he knew she was. He watched her until her truck's taillights became two specks off light, blazing down that dirt road.


	5. Like Pinpricks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now for the new chapter!

The fire roared, spitting up a spray of sparks. Azula watched them trail towards the sky like reversed shooting stars. The smoke reached fingers of its own towards the sky, its earth-tinged scent would cling to her flannel jacket for days to come unless she tossed it in the wash. 

She wouldn’t, not right away. She was fond of the smell. It was somehow comforting, cozy. She zipped the jacket up; the air was rather chilly that night, a very sharp contrast to the strangely warm night prior. 

 

Zuko tossed another cluster of twigs and leaves onto the pile. Azula inhaled, taking in the odor as much as she could. Of course, this probably wouldn’t be the last time they burned leaves this season. Not even close, the leaves had scarcely begun to fall. Still, she wanted to savor the moment. It might be one of the last quiet ones she’d have until the county fair ended. 

 

She gave her driveway another glance and sighed. Joke or not, maybe she shouldn’t have told Sokka not to come back until his fair preparations were done. She stared intensely at the fire. It was kind of lonely with just she and Zuko and their father occasionally peeking his head out.

 

The snap and pop of tires on gravel has her attention turned once more to the driveway. 

 

“Sokka?” Zuko inquired. 

 

“I reckon so.” Azula replied. Perhaps it was TyLee or Mai. 

 

She stood in front of the headlights, waiting for Sokka to emerge from the truck. When he does his boots land with a thud. “Sorry I’m late, were helpin’ ma out with the garden.” 

 

“It’s fine.” Azula beckoned him over to the pile of leaves. “Zu-Zu ‘n I ain’t even half done yet.” She pearched herself back on her lawn chair and watched the flames curl the edges of a leaf. “Take a seat.” She motioned. 

 

With a mischievous grin, he sat himself on Azula’s lap. 

 

“Not this one!” She gave him a decent shove. 

 

Zuko rolled his eyes. “You wanna toss the next branch in, Azula?” 

 

She stood back up and picked a branch. She placed it onto the burning pile. 

 

“Got any marshmellers?” Sokka asked. 

 

“No, ain’t got none of them.” Azula replied. “But we got some marshmallows.” 

 

“Ya know what I meant.” He grumbled.

 

She took his hand and tugged him out of his chair. If she had to get up, so did he. “Close the door behind you.” The last thing she wanted was a swarm of mosquitoes in her house. The smoke did its part in deterring them, but a few gnats had already taken to squeezing through the screen door. Those little things were nasty enough. “Want the bigger ones or the smaller ones.” 

 

He snatched up the jumbo marshmallows.

 

“I figered you would.” Azula rolled her eyes.  She returned to the soft glow of the fire and made herself nice and cozy again. She watched Sokka jab a marshmallow onto a stick and twirl it about in the flames. After a few moments of listening to the fire crackle, Azula asked, “so how’s the garden comin’ ‘long anyways?”

 

“Really good, better then I thought id be…” Sokka replied. “Ma’ and Kat are tryin’ to grow a large pump’in.”

 

“Is that what y’all are enterin’ this year?”

 

“Onea many things. Kat is enterin’ the pump’in contest. Ma is tryin’ ta win for the best tastin’ pie.”

 

“She makes good pie.” Zuko put in.

 

“I’ll let ‘er know y’all said that.” Sokka replied. 

 

Azula withdrew her marshmallow from the fire, inspecting it before deciding that it was to her liking. 

 

“How’d you get it so golden-brown? I always end up burnin’ mine.” Sokka asked. 

 

Azula shrugged. “Guess I just know how ta work a fire.”  If only her song lyrics came that naturally. “I’m gettin’ a little chilly.” She noted. “Gonna go get a blanket. Y’all want one too?” 

 

“The fire’s good ‘nuff fer me.” Zuko said. 

 

“I’ll share yers with ya.” Sokka answered. 

 

She made her way to her room. Spread out on her bed was a half circle of papers, most written on, some half used, and others blank. She arranged them and set them atop her dresser next to a bedside lamp and a picture of she Zuko, Sokka, and Katara at their last summer party. She tugged the topmost quilt off of her blanket. A handmade thing with a rooster embroidered in. It was an ugly thing, if she were being honest, but it was the one thing her mother had made for her before passing away. 

 

Azula wrapped the thing around her shoulders. If nothing else, it was very warm. She returned to the backyard, shutting the screen door behind herself. Before taking her seat she tossed another heap of leaves and twigs onto the smoldering pile. “Still wanna share the quilt?” 

At Sokka’s nod she draped the quilt over him. “So how are your songs coming along?”

 

“I’ve written better ones…” She trailed off. She knew that she had promised herself that she wouldn’t be writing anything deeply personal, but suddenly, with the quilt weighing on her shoulders, she wanted to write about her mother. About the unsolved tensions and unspoken things. 

 

“Wha’choo thinkin’ ‘bout?” 

 

“Nothin’.” Azula mumbled. 

 

“I know that face.” He noted. 

 

“Maybe ‘cause you see it all the time?” 

 

“I mean the ‘spression on it.” 

 

“She knows what you mean.” Zuko muttered. 

 

“It ain’t nothin’ important.” 

 

“You ken tell me a…”

 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

 

Sokka slung an arm over her shoulder and pulled her closer. She had no intention of sharing but it was nice to know that the offer was there if she ever wanted to. She leaned into him some, nothing notable enough to make Zuko squirm. But something notable enough to make her question, again, exactly what she had with Sokka. It was nice, what they already had--a very long-standing friendship. Perhaps he was like a second brother. It was something she didn’t want to lose. All the same…

 

He was warm. Warmer than the quilt. He smelled of the garden he’d been helping his mother with; it was nice to know that he wasn’t screwing around this time. That he was taking something seriously for once.  Azula felt him softly stroking her bicep. 

 

She looked towards the sky, taking in the scent of Sokka and the cozy odor of burning leaves. The stars shown like teeny glowing pin pricks on a black sheet. From the tall, unplowed grasses she could hear the unending chirps of crickets intermingling with an occasional tree frog croak.

 

“Should I put on some music?” Zuko offered.

 

“Naw, not this time. This…” Azula replied. “This is kinda nice.” It had been awhile since she’d truly gotten a chance to drink in the night noises. Though she supposed that if Sokka wanted some music she wouldn’t mind having something playing quietly from the patio. 

“I gotta agree. Kinda peaceful, wouldn’t ya say?” 

 

Zuko shrugged.

 

From somewhere in the forest an owl bellowed, a confirmation that they should just enjoy the night noise. Maybe if it wasn’t so cold she would have offered a backyard camping invitation. Instead she held her hands out towards the fire and let it warm them as Sokka readjusted the quilt. She leaned back against the chair and against Sokka. He gave her one of his puppy dog smiles, the kind that carried a warmth to match the fire. 

The kind that would have certainly had TyLee asking relationship questions again.

The kind that had Azula asking herself questions.

 

Sokka gave her a gentle hug; he’d done that since they were kids too. So what different now?

It wasn’t so confusing when they were kids.


	6. The Farmer's Market

Sokka watched Kya pluck a cluster of blueberries and raspberries from their designated bushes. The woman was baking up pie after pie. Practice, she stated. One after the other, but she never seemed satisfied. One was too sweet, one didn’t have ripe enough berries. One simply didn’t look pretty enough. He didn’t know what to do with all of those pies, they were too good to simply throw out and waste. Maybe he oughta drop one or two off for Azula and TyLee, the both of them had been working so hard these days. But TyLee was allergic to blueberries and Azula...he could picture her at her writing desk focusing much too hard to give the pie any more notice than maybe an absent bite or two. 

When deep in the creative process, the girl had a tendency to neglect things like eating until the urges became too intense to ignore.

So it was that Sokka had given himself a stomach ache or two, trying to keep those pies from going to waste. 

 

“Why ain’t you just sell ‘em?” Katara asked at last. 

He caught her watering her pumpkin. The last time they’d given it a good weigh it had a decent twenty-two pounds on it. It was getting to be on the large side. A good sign being as it was just a baby. 

“We could use the extra money.” 

 

By all means, she was right--he spared a glance at their newly broken tractor. It was just one more repair that they couldn’t afford to make. Again he found himself thanking the lord that he had grown so close to Azula. Perhaps her fa wouldn’t allow her to buy him a tractor part or a whole new one altogether. But she had a talent for sneaking her farm’s tractor out and loaning it to him for a day. Yet that day wasn’t a day that required one. 

 

It was a day that only required a pickup truck and some patience down at the farmer’s market. Katara’s idea  was a good one. “Have ma get ‘em tagether ‘n I’ll go on down ta town.” 

 

With any luck he’d be able to pull Azula away from her writing desk. 

He didn’t quite fancy sitting at a stall alone for hours. He figured that she could probably write songs sitting next to him. 

 

**.oOo.**

 

Azula groaned out loud. This whole song thing wasn’t going as well as she had hoped. Not at all. Why was it that whenever she  _ needed  _ good material it never came. She laughed bitterly to herself--in that case, it would seem that she always needed good material. 

 

Frowning to herself, she crossed out another line. She ran her fingers through her hairline. She could write about her mother. About the unspoken things about the unfinished matters. It would be the easy route. But the lord knew she didn’t want anyone to know about those struggles. She could write lyrics to a ‘dear mum’ kind of song but she’d never put it on an album. She drummed her fingers on the desk, growing more and more frustrated with each moment that passed without notable progress. With a drawn out sigh, she pushed her chair in. 

 

She’d have a quick bath and then get back to her writing...or lack thereof. 

 

No sooner had she vacated her chair did the doorbell ring. She had every intention of ignoring it. But her father called up. “It’s fer you, Azula. That boy, what’s his name? Sohka?” 

 

“Sokka.” Azula corrected. “Send him up.” 

It would see that her bath would have to wait. She had to admit, it was rather irritating to have Sokka interrupt her...oh who was she kidding, she didn’t have a creative flow going.  “Don’t you have yer ma to be helpin’?” 

 

“That’s actually why I came on over here. Ma done went ‘n made so many pie that I can’t even eat ‘em all.” He explained. “So I was gonna get on down to the farmer’s market ‘n try to sell ‘em. Maybe if folks sample ‘em first, they’ll have a better chance to win.”

 

Azula allowed herself a laugh. “Sokka, I think that’s gotta be the only smart thing ya said since we met.”  She supposed that it couldn’t hurt to keep the man company, she wasn’t getting anywhere with her own work anyhow. “A’right I’ll go with you.” 

 

“Yer the best.” 

He slung an arm around her, flashing a boyish smile, and her heart fluttered. She couldn’t understand why, not anymore than she could understand why she was so willing to drop what she was doing to help the boy.  She stole a peek at his expression. She had to get this...whatever it was...out of her head. He probably thought of her like a little sister. His face seemed to say as much.

 

“Well c’mon then.” He laughed, tugging her in the direction of his truck. 

 

His truck smelled of pine and cut hay. It was comfortingly familiar, she couldn’t even count the number of times she’d been in this truck. “Y’all wanna pick the station this time?”

 

Azula answered by turning the dial, finding her favorite station. The one with the artists who had inspired her to start writing music in the first place. In particular, she was fond of Yengchen’s vocals. But every now and again she could enjoy an older song or two by Lo and Li. Lo and Li, who her father claimed had been her caretakers when she was too young to remember having known them at all. 

 

“Yengchen again?” Sokka asked. 

 

“Yeah, it’s better then Chong and the Nomads.” Azula rolled her eyes. 

 

“Hey! Don’t ya’ll go bad mouthin’ Chong ‘n the Nomads!” 

 

He pulled into a parking spot and opened the door for her. She helped him carry an armful of pies to an open stall. 

 

“Ya wanna try a ‘lil piece?” 

 

Azula thought for a moment. “I suppose I do.” He cut her a small slice. “Yer ma does wonders in the kitchen. It’s almos’ as good as her jam.” 

 

“Almos’?” 

 

“I ain’t much of a pie person.” Azula confessed as Sokka greeted his first possible customer. 

 

An hour or so passed and Sokka’s stall had received little attention. It would seem that Long Feng and his crew were getting most of the attention again. According to Sokka, that’s how it usually went. Long Feng with is more industrial way of doing things. From the sound of it, his methods were highly unethical between injecting hefty amounts of hormones into his cattle to the general way he went about raising and slaughtering them. The man was no good for anyone in this town, yet everyone seemed to treat him like an agricultural god. 

They praised him for the size of his potatoes and carrots but they were practically artificial if Sokka’s word wasn’t biased. 

 

Evidently, it was Long Feng’s apples that were getting all of the attention that day. None for the perfectly tasty apple pie Kya had made. She helped herself to another slice, apparently she had finally taken enough for Sokka to make note of it. 

 

“I thought ya’ll ain’t a pie person.” 

 

“It’s diff’rent  when yer ma makes ‘em.” She replied. 

 

“If only everyone else thought that…”

 

“It ain’t you or Kya that’s the problem.” She eyed Long Feng and the rest of the Dai Li farm crew. 

 

“Ain’t no good for anyone.” Spoke the man in the stall next to theirs. “Been sayin’ so since they got here.” Usually Azula didn’t take anything this man said seriously. Not many did. But this one...this one was the one thing she and Sokka agreed with him on. “He been takin’ my business.” 

 

“I git this feelin’ that ya wouldn’t git business even if they went ‘n disappeared back ta the city they came from.” She muttered more to Sokka than to the older man. His cabbages weren’t exactly a delicacy at the farmer’s market and they didn’t fare any better at the fair. Frankly, Azula didn’t know many folks who liked cabbage. 

 

“I ain’t got no luck taday.” Sokka sighed. 

 

Azula returned the sigh and stood up. “Howdy, Chan.” She greeted with a rather exaggerated enthusiasm. “You look like ya need a pie.” She tugged him over to Sokka’s stall. “C’mon, jus’ buy one. Fer me?” She could bat her eyelashes for good measure, but she thought that words would suffice. 

 

Chan slid a few bucks Sokka’s way and took a pie. 

 

“If y’all like it, spread the word.” Sokka waved him off. And to Azula he spoke. “Ken ya do that again?”

 

“I suppose I can.” She replied, scanning the crowd for a familiar face. By the time most people began packing it in for the day, she had snagged Sokka a few more buyers. The boy had only three pies left. One of which she said that she’d take to her fa and Zuko. The other she said that she’d take to TyLee when she dropped by.

 

“I’m so glad I brought y’all along.” Sokka beamed at the wad of cash in his hands. “I reckon we could repair the tractor or one a the other things that we done broke.” 

 

“Glad I could help.” Azula replied. If only someone could help her with her song writing. 

 

Azula listened to the pop and snap of rocks as they cruised down the dirt road. She listened to Sokka singing along to Chong and the Nomads. She didn’t know who was more annoying, Sokka with is ridiculous twang or Chong himself. Azula could have sworn that Sokka hated Chong. 

The wind whipped at her hair. It would seem that, for once, she’d be home before dark. 

 

He pulled into her driveway and she let herself out of the car. Sokka put it in park and stepped out for himself.  “Thanks again fer helpin’ me out taday. I know yer busy.” 

 

“It ain’t nothin’ big.” She replied. 

 

“It kinda is.” He gave her another wide smile. A cheerful one. She was almost certain that he was going to give a wave and get back into his truck. Instead he pulled her close and gave her a quick hug. She wasn’t left with much time to savor it, but it was enough to take in the scent of him. The scent and the warmth. It wasn’t long at all. But it was long enough for her cheeks to go pink. 

 

Feeling awkward and not knowing what else to say she mumbled again, “it ain’t nothing big.”

 

He gave her back a light and quick pat. “It were to me.” 


	7. A Song With No Words

September came to a near close with few colder days, it was good for the BeiFong orchard and better for Sokka’s family farm. September was nearly over and by extension so was harvest time. That left Katara with about a week to get a few more inches on her pumpkin and Sokka himself with a week to protect his ma’s garden. For Katara’s sake he wished that the season could go on a little bit longer, for his own, he just wanted it to be over. The longer it took his ma to gather her best berries the more time termites had to get to it. 

 

The BeiFongs were lucky. They had so many apple trees that it didn’t matter if one fell to a mite infestation. They also had all the time in the world as their orchard didn’t close until the last week of November….and then they opened up their sister business; a lovely little pine farm.

 

Sokka wished that his mother would swallow her pride and accept some of the money the BeiFongs were pushing her way. It would take a lot of pressure off of he and Kat, not to mention, off of Kya herself. Sokka sighed and sprayed another round of pesticide. 

 

He set the chemicals aside. 

 

“How’s it goin’?”

 

Sokka jumped. “Don’t do that!” 

 

Azula laughed and leapt over the garden fence. “What, are them rabbits finally gettin’ ta you?” 

 

Sokka crossed his arms. “They ain’t scarin’ me none. But I am gettin’ mighty tire’ of chasin’ ‘em off.” He eyed a nibbled portion of Kya’s blueberry bush. They seemed to like that one the most, giving Sokka all the more reason to protect it. If they liked it then it must be a good batch. “Them deer is gettin’ pretty bad too, they git ta the low-hangin’ branches of the pear tree.” 

 

“Look at you, the guardian o’ the garden.”

 

“Ha. Ha.” He mumbled. “How’re yer songs goin’.” 

 

Azula sighed. “They ain’t.” 

 

“Then what are y’all doin’ ‘round here?” 

 

Azula shrugged. It was enough for Sokka to know she was blowing off her own work. “Y’all only got about a week ta come up wit somethin’.”

 

“I know.” She muttered. “I better hurry ‘cause I still gotta memorize whatever I come up wit.” She seated herself under the pear tree. “Zuko ‘n Mai ain’t much help. I tried to make a song ‘bout their relationship. They ain’t very interesting. Not when I need ‘em to be anyhow.”

 

“Yeah, they bin gittin’ along lately.” Sokka replied. “You try TyLee?”

 

“She’s been busy with her horses ‘n helpin’ her family get last minute things tagether fer the fair. She ain’t had much time ta talk to me.” Azula answered. “Not that I ain’t dropped by her place anyways. But we spent mosta that time ridin’ the horses. I tol’ her I’d help her practice.” Her face seemed to fall. 

 

“What’s that look fer? Did ya lose?” 

 

“I wouldn’t be sad if I went ‘n lost. It’d mean that TyLee’d do good at the fair.”

 

“Then why?”

 

“It ain’t my business to share. It’ll come out ‘ventually.” 

 

“Why ain’t you write a song about that?”

 

“Ain’t my story to tell.” She repeated. She was quiet for a moment. “Ya think I’m bein’ to picky?” 

 

Sokka nodded. “Mos’ definitely.”

 

She gave the back of his head a thump.  But after another bought of quite, confessed, “yer right…”

 

**.oOo.**

 

She’d sat under that pare tree long enough. Perhaps she should just perform the song she had written near the month’s beginning. But that one seemed to lack depth and soul. Did people even like pointless songs about nature? She couldn’t think of many radio hits about that kind of thing. It was mostly about family and love, both of which were too personal for her. Hell, she didn’t even know if she knew what romance was. Again her mind wandered to Sokka and she quickly shoved the feelings aside. She didn’t have time for that! 

She thought again, to the radio hits. If it wasn’t about romance and family it was about beer, trucks, and honky tonks. She liked to think that she had more class than that. 

 

Cowboy boots and the simplicity of the country life also seemed common. Songs about the works and toils of farm work.

Perhaps she could write something like that. About the simple country charms or about helping Sokka around the farm. But what if she did that she ran the risk of turning it into a song about Sokka himself. She shakes her head as if that would clear the light blush that had crept onto her cheeks. 

 

She tapped her pencil on the desk. She forced herself to write a verse or two about the first pair of cowboy boots her father had bought for her. It went well until after the chorus, after which she didn’t know where to take the song. She put it aside. If she couldn’t come up with anything better, she could probably try to make something out of that one. 

Azula didn’t know how late she had kept herself up, but it was getting late. Still, she couldn’t let another night pass without a song. Biting her lip, she caved deciding that it wouldn’t hurt to at least write the lyrics out. It might help get her creative flow going. She could always throw it out later.

 

By the time she put her pencil down she had a sheet filled with lyrics about her mother. She had her hands poised to tear the page up. 

 

But it was a good song…

Her only song...


	8. One Minute And Fifty-Three

Mai rubbed small circles on her back as she wept quietly to herself. It had been a few days but it still hurt just as much. Maybe more now that it had, had a chance to truly set in. She couldn’t compete. She couldn’t win the ribbon. She might not even be able to attend the fair at all, and her family was hosting it! 

 

_ It was sunny and the stables had been newly cleaned. The horses fed and washed. And it was only noon. In other words, she was going to have more than enough time to practice riding. She took her Kahnim around the track a few times, a warm up lap. One time  around her one and a quarter mile track ought to do it. It was the perfect track really, every course she’d raced on had been at least that large.  _

_ Perhaps she would have him practice hurdles today. But then, they had done that yesterday. So maybe she should have him do an endurance run.  _

 

_ TyLee bobbed up and down with each time Kahnim’s hooves hit the ground. He was getting faster, that was for sure, his warm up speeds had improved and without any extra exertion on his part. On average he could complete a single furlong--roughly an eighth of a mile or two-hundred and twenty yards--in eleven seconds. It wasn’t much at all but it was one whole second ahead of the average speed. And an it was even better knowing that, just a month prior he had averaged thirteen seconds. It was such a good sign, one that had TyLee beaming from ear to ear.  _

 

_ She was bursting to tell Azula the news. With any luck she’d squeeze some praise out of Azula. The girl wasn’t one to hand out compliments, but she did acknowledge hard work when it was displayed. As she waited for her friend to make her appearance, TyLee allowed Kahnim to prance about the yard freely. He had earned some leisure time.  _

 

_ As the hour passed, TyLee’s anticipation built. Finally she spotted Azula’s truck pulling into her driveway. She dashed out to greet her. “You won’t believe how fast Kahnim is gettin’!”  _

 

_ “Won’t I?” Azula asked.  _

 

_ TyLee tugged at her hand, rushing her onto the riding track. “Here, watch.” She called Kahnim over and handed Azula a stopwatch. _

 

_ Azula stood with her arms crossed and her expression neutral as TyLee cooed at the horse and handed him a carrot. A bribe to do his best in front of Azula. She set herself back up on the saddle and gave the reins a flick. TyLee closed her eyes and laughed as he picked up speed. She opened them once again and guided Kahnim over the first hurdle and the second.   _

_ She could feel it, today would be the day that they beat their own personal record.  _

 

_ After a third and final lap, TyLee slowed Kahnim to a halt in front of Azula.  The side of her mouth curved up, “a minute ‘n fifty-three seconds” she read.  _

 

_ TyLee lept down from the horse and threw her arms around Azula. “We done beat our record!”  _

 

_ “I had a feelin’ y’all would.” Azula replied. “Y’all been workin’ so hard lately.”  _

 

_ TyLee stroked Kahnim’s mane. “It’s mostly Kahnim doin’ all the work.”  _

 

_ “Do you think he’d work so hard for someone else?”  _

 

_ There it was, that subtle compliment she was hoping for. She squeezed Azula tighter.  _

_ “You up fer a race?” She didn’t know why she needed to ask; Azula was always up for a competition.  _

 

_ “I don’t see why not.” _

 

_ “I’ll get Bullet saddled up.” Bullet being Azula’s favorite. He was a sleek Thoroughbred with black fur that looked almost dark blue under a certain light. She’d been riding her nearly as long as TyLee had been riding Kahnim. _

 

_ It had went well for a while. Up until the very last race. Of their four races, Azula had only won the first. TyLee could see the conflict on the girl’s face; she was pleased to see TyLee having made so much progress, but was growing increasingly frustrated at being the loser.  _

_ She was pushing her horse pretty hard, but if there was any horse that could handle that, it was Bullet who had more fire and determination in her spirit than any other horse.  _

 

_ It was dandy until Azula began pulling ahead. She looked back at TyLee with a taunting laugh. “Looks like Imma win this one.” She declared. “‘Bout time!”  _

 

_ “I don’t think so!” TyLee called back.  _

 

If only Azula hadn’t been so competitive. 

If only TyLat hadn’t gotten in the way. 

She didn’t blame TyLat. She didn’t even blame Azula.

 

_ TyLat had snuck onto the path and TyLee hadn’t noticed the girl until she was nearly trampling her. Azula jerked Bullet’s reigns at the same time as TyLee and maneuvered swiftly around TyLat.  _

_ So did TyLee, but with less success. _

 

_ The movement was so abrupt. She watched Azula land with a harsh thud, only moments before she did. Laying on the ground, she briefly saw Azula stand and dust off her knees and cradle her arm. She had only a moment to observe before a sharp pain shot up her leg. She cried out and Azula’s head snapped in her direction.  _

_ Her friend was at her side only a split second before her sister.  _

_ Azula remained while TyLat hightailed it towards the house calling for their parents. _

 

TyLee wasn’t the jealous sort but she did envy that Azula got away with only a nasty bruise on her shoulder, a sizable scrape on her elbow, and a few smaller scrapes on her knees. TyLee looked down at her own leg, disagreeably snug in a cast.

 

“How am I supposed to ride like this, Mai?” 

If only she hadn’t acted on Azula’s friendly, albeit passive-aggressive taunts. If only she had just let her win. If only, if only, if only.  “Azula reckons that I can still compete…” 

 

Mai cut in. “You can. I seen people with broken limbs do it.” 

 

“They trained fer it.” TyLee pointed out. “I ain’t got enough time ta do that.” 

 

“You ain’t gotta win.” Azula appeared in the doorway, leaving TyLee to wonder when she’d let herself in. “Sokka asked me to give y’all one.” She set a pie upon the table. “I reckon you could use a treat.”

 

TyLee wiped a tear away. She did like pie. “Thanks, Azula…” she trailed off. “I do gotta win, Azula. I been workin’ so hard.”

 

Azula sighed, TyLee could swear she detected a flicker of guilt or sympathy. Probably a mix of both. “You got next year.”

 

“I were really hopin’ it’d be this year. ‘Cuz I say that every year. I just...I just went to thinkin’ that this year’d be the year. Ya know?”

 

Azula nodded. For a moment, TyLee thought that she’d apologize, instead she replied, “if anyone could win with a broken leg, it’s you.” 

 

TyLee wanted to correct Azula, to tell her that she’d actually be more likely to pull that off. “Ya think?” 

 

“You went and beat me a few times.” 

 

TyLee had to laugh at the mixture of annoyance and proudness on her face. 

 

“How much did it hurt you to admit that?” Mai asked. 

 

“‘Bout as much as this here bruise.” She went quiet for a while. “Yer still gonna compete, right, Ty?” 

 

TyLee nodded. But only because she didn’t want Azula...and TyLat to feel anymore guilty. She looked over at the empty spot on her dresser that she had left open for her first blue ribbon. Her heart ached. 


	9. A Song Unsang

The smell of corndogs, popcorn, and cotton candy perfumed the air. The better part of his very early morning had been spent in the kitchen with Kya. He only had a chance to leave it when Katara came in panting and huffing, declaring that, “that pump’in is too dang big.” Longing for an excuse to leave the kitchen he had shot a glance at his mother. She rolled her eyes and dismissed him from his kitchen duties. He was sure that his mother could handle it on her own anyhow. He stood over the pumpkin, it had to weigh at least fifty pounds. “How’d y’all even git it so big?” Sokka had asked. 

 

Katara shrugged. “Suppose it’s all ‘bout luck.”

 

“And skill.” She had to have a green thumb to grow a pumpkin that large.  “Now watch how a real man does it.” He wriggled his fingers before stooping over and trying to heave the pumpkin into his arms. He huffed, the weight of the thing hadn’t been the problem so much as the shape of it. 

He flushed, finally admitting that he needed help too.

 

Together the siblings managed to get the pumpkin into the back of his truck and ready for the fair. The rest of his morning had been spent helping Kya arrange her stall at the fair. She vowed that she had finally made the perfect pie. She hadn’t unveiled it yet, but his nose certainly agreed that she had cooked the best pie.

 

Currently, Sokka walked next to Azula, listening to the crunch of gravel beneath her studded turquoise cowgirl boots. She wore a matching cowgirl  hat that helped to shade her face. She stared at the ground, acting much quieter than usual. “Wan’ me ta buy ya some’a the popped corn or somethin’?” She hated when he called it popped corn, if that couldn’t evoke a response from her, then he didn’t know what would.

 

She shrugged, “I guess.” 

 

“What are ya bein’ so quiet fer?” It occurred to him. “Y’all were able ta write a song weren’t ya?”

 

“Yeah, Sokka, I wrote a song…” 

 

“Yer gonna sing it, right?” 

 

“Course I’m gonna sing it.” She replied. “What’s the point ‘a writin’ a song if I ain’t gonna sing it?”

 

“Ya gonna sing it in fon’a people?” 

 

Azula rolled her eyes. “Yeah, Sokka. That’s what I wrote it fer.”

 

He slung an arm over over her shoulder and guided her to one of the food stalls. He promised her the popped corn, he was gonna get her the popped corn. Hell, he even threw in a vanilla, chocolate swirl ice cream cone and a pretzel. Hesitantly, Azula took the pretzel and slid him a few dollar bills. “What’s this fer? I said I’d buy it fer ya?” 

 

“Yer family ain’t got the money ta be spendin’ on someone who already got it.” She answered. “Thanks fer the thought though.” 

 

Sokka sighed, she always did have a habit of making acts of kindness more complicated than need be. “I hear they’re havin’ a yodelin’ contest…”

 

She cut him off. “Trust me, I hear it too and I’d like to stop.” 

 

Sokka rolled his eyes but laughed. “A’right, I take it ya don’ wanna git front row seats.”

 

“Not at all.” She confirmed. 

 

“How ‘bout goin’ ta visit them piglets?” He offered. She turned her head and he knew that she was smiling. She had a soft spot for the piglets since they were children. 

 

“Sure, we ken go ‘n see the pigs.” 

 

“Good, ‘cause I wan’ed to see this year’s selection a goats ‘n cows… ‘n the chickens… ‘n the horses. Aw heck, I wanna pet em’ all.”

 

“Even the rabbits?” Azula asked. “Or are y’all traumatized?” 

 

“Yup, e’en them rabbits.” He looked at the time, they only had an hour or two before the horse races began. He took hold of Azula’s hand and hurried her along. He sure hoped that things were going well for TyLee.

 

**.oOo.**

 

Azula let Sokka tug her through the crowd, mostly because she hadn’t exactly expected the oaf to take her hand. He was particularly chipper that day, leaving Azula with the impression that his family’s gardening endeavors were going well.

 

At last, Sokka came to a stop in front of the pigpens. “Look at this one!” He pointed. Azula followed the direction of his finger. Rolling about in the mud was probably one of the teeniest little piglets Azula had ever gazed upon. It had to be the runt of the litter. 

 

“Ken we hol’ ‘im?” Sokka asked of the owner. 

 

“Go right on ahead.”

 

Azula lifted the small thing out of its pen. “I oughta steal ‘im.” Azula whispered to Sokka. 

 

“Don’ go ‘n do that!” He exclaimed. But Azula admitted that she wasn’t quiet listening. More or less, her focus was on the fuzzy, pink baby in her hands. She stroked his fur for the longest time, long enough for Sokka to warder on over to the goat stalls. Sparing the overhead clock a glance, Azula returned the piglet to its pen, albeit, a little bit reluctantly. She made her way back to Sokka’s side. “It’s almost time for TyLee’s race to begin.” 

 

“Best head ta the track then.” He replied.  He caught her eye. “Ya gonna tell me wha’s botherin’ ya?” 

 

Azula held her silence for a while longer.  “She’s still havin’ trouble ridin’.” It was easier than admitting that she was nervous about her own upcoming performance, but it was true enough. “Ain’t matter how much she practice, she can’t go that fast with her leg the way it is…” 

TyLee told her as much the last time she visited. Apparently, her doctor had advised against riding at all, lest the bumps and leaps rattle her fragile bone more.

But TyLee had a stubborn streak in her to match Azula’s own. 

 

“I’m purtty sure Ty ken handle ‘erself.” 

 

“Yeah. I sure hope so…” 

 

**.oOo.**

 

TyLee squeezed her eyes shut. She wasn’t even supposed to be here right now, her mother had made that clear as rain water in a bucket. She sure hoped that TyLao was playing her part convincingly. At least there was one perk to having six siblings that looked exactly like her. Though, it might have been more practical for TyLao to fill in for her. But there was no pride in that, what was the point of a blue ribbon if she didn’t win it for herself?

 

There was a pulsing in her injured leg, but that might have been the product of her imagination and stress. She drew in a few deep inhales.  She heard the shot of a gun and the clamor of metal against metal as the gates swung open. She gave Kahnim’s reigns a flick. 

 

The first few furlongs went well, she could feel the mid-autumn wind tossing her hair and the familiar trills of freedom that came with it. Intermingling with the breathy hiss of air was the sound of cheering and yelling. She tried to put that out of her mind, tried to tell herself that it was just she and Kahnim running through another practice round. 

 

His hooves pounded promisingly on the gravel. 

He had all the power he needed. 

All the power that she had trained him to use. 

The weakness lay in TyLee herself. 

 

And the weakness displayed itself halfway through. A mist of tears hazed her vision as each jolt and bump, each hoof fall became rougher on her bad leg. She gritted her teeth and pushed on. She was clinging to second and pushing for first and she wouldn’t lose that to an ill-timed injury. 

 

Perhaps she should have just accepted second place. 

Instead she flicked Kahnim’s reigns, urging him to go a little faster, at least enough to pull ahead during the final stretch. Such a feat was no problem for him. For TyLee, it was another matter, one that made itself known the moment Kahnim picked up speed. The sharp pang that shot up her leg came with intensity so forceful she let go of the reigns. She only managed to just grasp them in time to keep herself from toppling to the ground. 

Though she had jerked Kahnim good with that one. She heard the gallop of a dozen passing horses, but it didn’t matter because, by the time her own had slowed himself, she was dangling precariously from his saddle.

She didn’t even want to look at her leg.

 

She definitely should have settled for second place. TyLee didn’t know if she had cried out in frustration or in pain, it was probably a combination of both. A rare occurrence where she couldn’t muster a shred of optimism. 

Faintly, through a fog of pain, she could hear the announcement that called the race to a halt amid the sympathetic moans of spectators. And that was just it, it was all over. She knew it was when they carefully moved her from the discomforts of the track gravel and under one of the shaded tents where stood her mother, Mai, and Azula--who leaned some onto Sokka--all looking every bit as somber as one another. 

 

“I blew it…” She mumbled. 

 

**.oOo.**

 

The look on TyLee’s face. That soft crack in her voice. The bleakness in her eyes. It all followed Azula backstage. She truly tried not to dwell on it, TyLee had told her not to worry about her. But she did. She did because, deep down she still knew that she had a pretty decent hand in how things unfolded for her friend. 

 

She gave her lyrics one last once over. Was she really going to sing this one? Sokka kept his distance, he knew her moods well enough to do so. Part of her wanted to approach him, to try to alleviate his concern, but she didn’t much feel like standing at the moment. Evidently she felt rather sick. Seeing TyLee on a stretcher for a second time had done her no favors. 

 

She listened to the careful drawl of Yue as she sang through her last verse. Honestly, the girl’s voice was heavenly and she noted that she wasn’t even trying to make a career of it--that it was just something she did as a hobby. 

 

“Good luck.” Sokka smiled warmly, she allowed the boy to pat her back once or twice. 

 

Azula picked up her acoustic guitar, checking once more to make sure that it was in tune. She spared Sokka a final backwards glance as the announcer called her to the stage. Sokka gave her a bright grin and a thumbs up.  The curtains parted and she played the opening cords. 

 

She opened her mouth. They were there, the lyrics, right on the tip of her tongue. She knew them well, all she had to do was let them go. But somehow, with a couple hundred onlookers, she couldn’t seem to do so. A couple hundred strangers didn’t need to know that her mother had taken up a drinking habit because of her. They didn’t need to know how that made her feel.

They didn’t need to know any of it. 

 

She wondered just why the hell she hadn’t just written a song about a dumbass farmer who was trying to protect his ma’s garden from rouge rabbits. Hell, would have been better off taking Sokka’s suggestion to write lyrics about a grasshopper. 

It would have been better than the nothing she was spouting now.

 

Had her head been clear she might have settled for at least giving an instrumental performance.

But between a very vivid image of the angle of TyLee’s leg and the weight of her nerves finally coming down full force, she could only think of a quick retreat. 

 

Azula wasn’t one for fleeing, but she knew when to call it quits. Knew when she had been beaten. She best surrender with what little honor she had left and hope that her father didn’t regret buying her that guitar. 


	10. Spade

He found her sitting by herself just on the outskirts of the fair where the music reached only faintly. Not that he expected her to have company. If anything she was probably trying to avoid Mai, Zuko, her father, and anyone else who would want to offer solace. He knew this and he almost felt bad intruding. 

 

He didn’t know how to approach her, not when she was like this. In fact he couldn’t remember the last time he saw her sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest and a somber and withdrawn expression on her face. He noted that her guitar was wedged between her legs and her chest, so that she was practically slumped over it. 

 

He didn’t know how to approach her so he didn’t. 

Instead he retreated back onto the fairgrounds, where they were probably beginning to sample the cooking contest entries. 

 

**.oOo.**

 

Azula carelessly plucked at the strings of her guitar. She had, had a perfectly good chance and she just went and let it go. A sudden urge to throw the guitar, to smash it until it splintered, overtook her. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the impulse to pass. She curled her fists into the grass and gritted her teeth. She could hear the incessant chirping of crickets interrupted only by the howl of a dog somewhere in town. 

 

The urge didn’t want to pass so she mustered all of her self control and set her guitar down next to her. In that moment she hated herself. She couldn’t remember the last time she had choked up like that. She was almost certain that, that was the first time she had ever done so. 

 

She heard a crunch behind her but she didn’t lift her head. If anyone was there, she’d let them approach her. But no one came to sit next to her. Not for a good long while. She sat there for an hour or so, looking at a glittering web of stars. She didn’t notice when Sokka dropped himself down next her until he said, “what happened up there?” 

 

“I didn’t have a song prepared.” 

 

“But y’all said…”

 

“I had one but I ain’t want to sing it.” She paused. “It weren’t that important anyways.” 

 

“Ain’t important? It meant everythin’ to ya.”

 

“It can’t have been that important if I ran off the stage.” She muttered. “If I really wanted to be a singer so bad, I woulda done it… it ain’t that important.”

 

“Or maybe y’all went ‘n ran ‘cause it were the most important thing ‘n u wanted ta start it right.” Sokka countered. 

 

“Now that ain’t make a whole lotta sense.” Azula rolled her eyes. 

 

“Sure it does. Point is, it’s important to ya.” 

 

It didn’t really matter if it was important to her. Whether it was or wasn’t, wouldn’t change that she had fled her own performance. She hadn’t even given herself a chance. She still couldn’t decide what would have been worse, doing as she had or standing on stage and breaking into tears in front of everyone because she could barely stomach talking about Ursa, much less singing about her. Somehow she thought that running was worse. At least if she went and cried, her voice would have been heard, there would have been power and emotion to the music. But, lord did she had the prospect of vulnerability. 

 

“Hey, ya don’ need ta be sad. I went and got ya somethin’.”

 

“I ain’t want no more pie, Sokka. And I ain’t want ‘the popped corn’ neither.” 

 

“This is better than food.” Sokka declared. She watched him reach into a little box, wondering how she hadn’t noticed that before. 

 

“Sokka, what’s in there?” She asked upon seeing him pull out something wrapped in a bundle of blankets. Without answering he placed the bundle in her arms. She was about to hand it back when it wiggled. “Sokka…?” 

 

“Unwrap it.”

 

Having enough hesitation for one night, Azula unfolds the blanket. “You didn’t.”

 

“I done did!” He replied proudly.

 

A little pink head peeked up at her. “It ain’t the same one.”

 

“Sure it is.” Sokka smiled. “You liked ‘im a lot ‘n I figered he might make ya feel better.” 

 

Azula cradled the piglet at her bosom and looked over at Sokka. “How’d you get ‘im?”

 

“Ma ‘n Kat won. I used some a the prize money.” 

 

“Sokka!” Azula scolded. “Wha’d I tell you ‘bout that?”

 

“Don’ worry ‘bout it. I tol’ you, we jus’ needed a lil’ extra cash to git the farm goin’ again. We got more then anuff now.” He promised. “So ya better enjoy yer piggy ‘cause he already likes ya.” 

 

Azula rubbed her pointer on his teeny head and smiled. “He’s so small. I ain’t never see a pig so small.”

“Well then yer a good match fer each other. ‘Cause I ain’t never seen someone small as y’all.” 

 

**.oOo.**

 

The half-glare, half-pout she shot him made him chuckle. But he didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. She always had been the shortest one in class. “What are ya gonna name ‘im?” 

 

“I can name ‘im Aang, so Zuko can finally catch ‘im.”

 

“Are they still playin’ that game a tag?” 

 

“I ain’t think they’ll ever stop. Not ‘til Zuko wins. So...they’ll be playin’ fer a good long time.” Azula replied. 

 

A sense of accomplishment befell Sokka because she was joking and smiling again. He could tell that she still wasn’t entirely happy, but she wasn’t so withdrawn either. “How ‘bout ya name ‘im Runt.”

 

“That’s just ‘bout the most unoriginal thing I ever hear.” Azula rejected. “His name is gonna be Spade.”

 

“That’s a lil’ sinister don’ ya think?”

 

“‘Sactly. It’s ironic ‘cause he’s so small.” 

 

Sokka cocked his head. 

 

“It’s okay, you can laugh, it’s funny.” 

 

“Y’all have a weird sense a humor, ‘Zula.”

 

“‘N you have a weird sense of literally everythin’ else.” Azula shrugged. 

 

“That’s fine with me.” Sokka said. No sooner than the conversation dropped did the sorrow creep back onto Azula’s face. He had to keep her from thinking too much about it. He tried to recall how he consoled her when they were just kids.

 

**.oOo.**

 

Azula held Spade at eye level, watching him kick his teeny legs as though he’d be going somewhere. Watching the display, she could almost pretend like it was just a regular night. That TyLee wasn’t in the hospital and she still had time to prepare a song.  She lowered Spade back into her lap and wrapped him up in the blankets. She didn’t speak again until he was nestled in her lap and sleeping. “You didn’t have to do this.”

 

“Sure I did.” Sokka insisted, setting a hand between her shoulder blades. “Y’all helped my mom ‘n I so much. I just wanna do somethin’ nice fer ya.”

 

She was quiet for another heartbeat. “Jus’ you bein’ here is plenty anuff.” The way she’d spoken it left her wondering about the weight of her own words. Her belly fluttered, just what had she admitted? She sighed to herself, she was overthinking again. Of course him being there was enough, he was her closest friend. 

But then he leaned in and wrapped his arms around he. Again, she found herself getting jittery. And for what? It wasn’t like he hadn’t done anything like that before. He’d hugged her a ton of times during their playdates. Hell, he’d kissed her in days when spreading cooties was a fear sweeping the third grade. 

It was innocent. 

 

But this time his embrace lingered. 

Or maybe she was imagining it.  

She had to be, because he pulled away, just like normal. 

 

“Promise me that yer gonna keep writin’ songs.” 

 

“Of course, I’m gonna keep writin’.” 

 

“‘N singin’ ‘em?” 

 

“‘N singin’ ‘em.” Azula confirmed. She couldn’t stop herself even if she tried.

 

“Good, ‘cause it ain’t like y’all ta give up so quick.” 

 

This whole fair business. It was embarrassing and it did hefty damage to her ego. But like hell she’d give up. Sokka was right, it wasn’t in her blood to do so. A break, however wouldn’t be so bad. She had come to conclude that she simply couldn’t force a good song onto the paper. No, she’d let the lyrics come to her. 

 

“Thanks for all a this?” Azula stated softly. 

 

He leaned in again and Azula opened her arms for another hug. And he followed through. He followed through, but with an addition. It took her a surprised but giddy look from Sokka for her to realize that it was she who kissed him. Albeit, the kiss was on his forehead, but it was a kiss.


	11. A Visit

He was disappointed. She knew that he would be. She held Spade close to her chest. Azula speculated that her father was going to bar her from seeing Sokka until she wrote a song and performed it. He hadn’t said anything yet, but then, she’d been avoiding him altogether. A part of her hoped that he would tell her that she couldn’t see Sokka anymore, it would save her the confusion. It would save her from having to talk to the boy about why she went and kissed him. She laid back onto the mattress and let Spade wander off. Evidently the piglet decided not to wander very far and instead made himself comfy just below Azula’s chest. 

 

Why’d Sokka have to go and by her the piglet?

Why’d he have to go and comfort her?

It would have been so much easier to push feelings to the side if he were a mean and cold sort. If he were walled off and hard to read. If he was like her.

 

But he wasn’t. The fact of the matter was that he had always been very good to her. Good to the point things...where feelings had such a large chance to grown and manifest whether she wanted them to or not. Azula slung an arm over her eyes as if that would keep her from seeing her own truths. 

 

She didn’t like thinking about them. 

So she wouldn’t.

 

She made her way, as quietly as possible, down the stairs. But she wasn’t going to get by easily, her father was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee a cigar, and a newspaper that he was only half paying attention to. “I hear that yer friend’s family won this year.”

 

“He did.” Azula confirmed. 

 

“I do hope he gave you some credit fer that.” Ozai muttered. “I think you put more effort into helpin’ him win than into helpin’ yerself.”

 

Azula swallowed. Perhaps she had, but it certainly didn’t help that TyLee had, had another accident. One that was, once again, entirely her fault for encouraging the girl to push herself. Just like their mom was dead because of her.

 

“You will have a song, eventually?”

 

“Yeah, I’ll have a song…”

 

“I expect one in three days.” He slid the newspaper over to her. “I were listein’ to the radio ‘n found out that they’re holdin’ a competition.” He paused. “A whole day of lettin’ aspirin’ artists have a chance to show off.” 

 

“I’ll have a song.” She replied. She couldn’t disappoint him a second time. Losing her composure once was pushing it. He had high expectations for her and she wasn’t meeting them. She wasn’t even meeting her own. 

 

She had a hand on the doorknob when her father looked up again. “Where are you goin’ to?”

 

“I wanted to check on TyLee.”

 

“You have an hour. Then you git on home and git to writin’.” 

 

Azula nodded. She didn’t want to find herself on the receiving end of his belt. Granted he’d only used it once. Once when Ursa died and something in him broke. Once when he howled and raved about how the both of them, she and Zuko, and driven the woman to her death. Only once, but it was still a fear that lingered in the back of her mind.

A memory that refused to leave, of a time when the two of them had been sent to live with their uncle while their father was institutionalized. He wasn’t the same after that. He didn’t talk to them as much, perhaps he was ashamed. 

Perhaps he knew that neither of them had forgotten. Heaven knew that he had trouble looking at Zuko, at the scar slashed by his eye.

Azula so terribly missed the man who would join them for cookouts, the man who would host them. “I’ll be home.” She muttered. 

 

He gave a firm nod.

 

**.oOo.**

 

Her eyes were puffy and red and it made Azula somewhat queasy. Her hospital stay hadn’t been long, but, according to TyLee, they had made it mighty clear that she had done a fool’s thing. That she had made a small break into something that would take much longer to recover from. 

 

“But look! Your uncle went ‘n set me some flowers!” She motioned to a bouquet. 

 

Uncle Iroh was a vet by trade and tended to one of the county’s largest gardens. So Azula wasn’t surprised to hear it. The vet’s clinic was situated in the same parking lot as the local doctor’s office and a small hospital. The man made a habit of bringing his homegrown flowers to patients. 

 

“He even got me daffodils ‘n daisies, them are my favorites.” 

 

“You mighta mentioned that every other day when we was kids, Ty.” Azula replied.

 

“I’m so glad you came to visit me!” She smiled brightly. “You ‘n Mai both.”

 

“Even though it’s our fault this happened?”

 

“I wouldn’t a done it if I didn’t want to.” TyLee replied. 

 

Even still, peer pressure from the two of them didn’t do any favors. 

 

“Well, I have a surprise fer you.” Azula made her way to where she had set her bag, not that it remained there. Rolling her eyes at Spade’s futile escape attempt, she plucked him into her arms and carried him to TyLee’s bedside. “Sokka bought ‘im for me.”

 

TyLee squealed in delight. “It’s a lil piggy!” She exclaimed. “A cute teeny lil’ piggy.” She paused. “Now why’d Sokka go ‘n buy you that?”

 

“‘Cause I didn’t win the singin’ competition.”

 

“But you have the best voice in…”

 

“I didn’t even use it.” Azula cut her off. 

 

TyLee blinked. “Oh, Azula, it ain’t my fault is it? It ain’t because you thought it would be unfair to win when I couldn’t, is it?”

 

“Not entirely…” Azula trailed off. “Anyway...point is, Sokka got me a piglet.”

 

TyLee took the hint. “Oh he’s a charmer!” She exclaimed. “No wonder you like ‘im so much.” But that subject wasn’t much better. 

 

“There ain’t nothin’ ‘tween me ‘n Sokka.” Azula insisted.

 

“Yeah-huh, there is.” TyLee argued. “Just cause you ain’t see it…”

 

Azula sighed. 

 

“Y’all are gonna invite me to yer wedding right. ‘N yer gonna let me be a Godmother.” 

 

“Ty! I ain’t gonna be no mom.” Azula folded her arms. 

 

“Yer gonna be a mama, ‘n yer gonna sing the best lullabies. ‘N it ain’t just gonna be one baby. Yer gonna have three of ‘em. ‘N Sokka’s gonna have to deal with you when yer pregnant.” 

 

Azula groaned. She knew that this had to be a special brand of TyLee vengeance. “I ain’t doin’ none a that sappy stuff.” 

 

“Yer right, that’s Sokka’s job.” TyLee agreed as she rocked Spade in her arms. “I love ‘im so much.”

 

“You wanna spend the night with ‘im? I’ll come back for ‘im in the mornin’.”

 

TyLee’s eyes lit up and she nodded vigorously, “thanks a bunch Azula. I don’ know what I’d do without you ‘n Mai.”

 

**.oOo.**

 

Azula sat at her writing desk, trying not to let her mess of emotions overtake her completely. Between her mother, having failed to sing at all--much less, win, and Sokka making her feel all jittery and out of sorts, she didn’t know how she was going to write anything. 

 

She supposed that she would write about Sokka. About the confliction. 

Lyrics helped her organize her thoughts, helped her sort them out.

It would be a good warm up, a good way to get her creative flow going...

 

Her stomach knotted, remembering how her last ‘warm up’ song had gone.

 


	12. True Autumn

Azula awoke to the sound of rain. Groggily, she lifted her head and looked around, it would seem that she had fallen asleep at her writing desk. She stretched her arms and pushed her chair in, walking towards the window. The hills of rolling green that spanned for miles, now hung somewhere between its former vibrancy and a duller yellow. The forested part of her yard had a thick carpet of leaves, most all of the trees had shed their crowns. Only a few trees still had a fluff of leaves still holding on. Curling and rolling through that earthy carpet was a gentle and billowing mist.

It was undoubtedly autumn. 

 

Azula left the blinds parted and stared out the window for a few more minutes before returning to her writing desk. Hastily, she placed the new song under a stack of paper. God forbid, Zuko come snooping. She had to go pick Spade up and then swing by Sokka’s place. 

 

Keeping herself busy would be the goal, the resuming of classes made it that much easier to do so. Ever since the fair, thoughts of her mother have been pestering her waking thoughts. It would only be a matter of time before they started invading sleep as well.

 

It was still early, she could hear her father snoring from down the hall. Quietly she slipped out and into her truck. The roads were turning to slosh and the rain had only just begun. Perhaps she should have left her father a note, she supposed that she could just text him. 

 

She hated driving in the rain, it always dirtied her truck. She hated driving in the fog more, the way it rendered the roadways and fields wholly identical. For it she had to pay extra attention to the road signs. She came to drive by the fairgrounds. She didn’t really want to pass them when her wounds were so fresh and raw, but it was the quickest route from TyLee’s ranch to Sokka’s farm. The tents looked forlorn in their half-assembled, half-taken down state. A visage of something that has passed, something that could be cheerful now standing lonely in the fog. Only a hallow version of what it had been.

She supposed that it was as fitting as a place of missed opportunities should be.

 

By the time Azula reached Sokka’s family farm, the rain was coming down like an unchecked and overpowered sprinkler. She shut and locked her truck doors and, with Spade tucked under her shirt, hustled onto his porch , which was so open it did little to block wind-tossed rain. She rang the doorbell twice.

 

“Sokka ain’t home yet.” Katara greeted. 

 

“Tell ‘im I dropped by.” Azula turned to leave. 

 

“Wait.” Katara said reluctantly. “It’s really pourin’ out there. He should be home soon.” 

 

Azula wouldn’t pass on an invitation to get out of the rain. She left her shoes by the door and followed Katara deeper into the house. “Sokka tol’ me that you won?” 

 

Katara smiled. “I sher did.” She beckoned Azula to follow. Sitting on the back porch was a pumpkin twice, maybe even thrice, as big as her head. “Sokka helped keep the animals from it.”

 

“He mentioned that too.” Azula replied.

 

“We have some left o’er jam ‘n waffles if y’all want any.” Katara offered. 

 

Azula sat Spade in her lap. “Might as well.” 

 

**.oOo.**

 

Sokka was surprised to see Azula and Katara exchanging more pleasant conversation. He was more than grateful to see her sitting on his sofa with Spade trotting about on the rug in front of her. He was almost certain that she was going to start avoiding him after the blush inducing kiss.

But then, save for the fair, he didn’t know Azula to be the sort to run away from things.

 

“Howdy, Azula.” Sokka greeted as Kya gave Katara a good morning. 

 

“Sokka.” Azula nodded. She motioned to the back porch. The downpour had slowed into a drizzle so he agreed and followed her outside. It was rather chilly so he offered her one of Ma’s quilts. 

 

“Feelin’ any better?”

 

Azula shrugged. “Depends what yer askin’ about.” 

 

“I dunno, the fair. TyLee.”

 

“I suppose I’m feelin’ better about the fair. Father found me another contest to enter.” She paused. “Ty’s doin’ fine too. She likes Spade a bunch.” 

 

He didn’t mean to push, but he couldn’t help her if he didn’t know exactly what was going on with her. “Why couldn’t ya sing the song, Azula?”

 

“It were my business and mine only.” She declared, perhaps a little too abruptly. 

 

“Ken it be mine ‘n yer business?” Sokka asked. 

 

He could tell by her silence that he had just put her in a state of thought. “It were about my mother.” 

 

“What ‘bout ‘er?” 

 

“She’s dead ‘cause of me.” 

 

He furrowed his brows and waited for her to elaborate. 

 

“Father made it sound like she were happy before I were born…” she trailed off. “She ain’t start drinkin’ ‘til after that.” She swallowed and an sympathetic pang situated itself in his belly. He knew what it was like to be missing a parent, with Hakoda rather freshly enlisted in the army. 

 

“That ain’t got nothin’ ta do wit ya.” Sokka insisted. 

 

“It does so.” She insisted. “Zuko ‘n I were snoopin’ ‘round father’s office one day ‘n I found somethin’ I weren’t supposed to. They were files Sokka.” She paused. “Medical papers from her time in rehab. She had Pos’partum depression. She ain’t had that after Zuko were born…”

 

“She didn’t...ya know…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. 

 

“Not on purpose.” Azula replied. She drank way too much one night. I were only eight or nine when it happened.” 

 

Sokka gulped. He knew her then, he’d known her for about four years. How hadn’t he known about that? Come to think about it, she’d never even mentioned her mom to him in those four years. He’d never met her, never saw her. He supposed that it was because the woman’s drinking habit wasn’t a thing to expose a child to. “Why ain’t you tell me?”

 

Azula shrugged. “I didn’t wanna talk about it.” 

 

“You still don’t want to talk about it, do you?”

 

“Not really.” She responded. “I ain’t wanna talk about it. Much less sing about it fer everyone to know.” 

 

He nodded. It made much more sense now. She must have been truly pressed for time if she settled on such a weighty song. 

 

“She died ‘cause I’m alive.”

 

“Don’ say that.” Sokka looked into her eyes before pulling her into a hug. “Don’ ya’ll say that.” He pat tentatively pat her back. She didn’t reply. He rested his head atop hers, taking in the scent of her shampoo. The strength of the raspberry scent, told him that she had showered very recently. He rather liked having her in his arms.

 

If he was being honest with himself, he had been conflicted. The kiss, her small display of affection, it had thrown him off some. Truth be told, he’d never thought of her as more than a friend. A childhood companion, who he wanted to make happy. 

Her kiss had left him feeling just as confused as it did joyful. 

He didn’t know how she could be so sure of herself.

But inhaling that raspberry tang and feeling her breath against his neck, it was a helluva lot easier to imagine her carefully offering another kiss. 

 

**.oOo.**

 

Azula listened to the sound of the drizzle with a cup of hot cider in hand. That time it wasn’t made by Kya herself, but she did heat it in the microwave. Somehow she felt lighter with her troubles in the open. With them released there was room for soothing. Between the pitter-patter on the roof and the blanket Sokka had bundled them both in, she was feeling rather cozy. 

 

“So, I ain’t no good at lyrics, but I wanna help ya write some.” Sokka offered. 

 

Her father was still expecting a song. She decided that it could only do favors to come home from Sokka’s place with a new song in her hands.  “Sure, I’d like that, Sokka.”

 

“I was thinkin’ we could write ‘bout watchin’ the rain on a porch.” 

 

“We could.” Azula agreed. She wasn’t going to be picky this time. She wished that she could tell Spade to go fetch her writing utensils, she was comfy where she sat. “Watch Spade. I’ll be right back.”


	13. Morning Clouds

 

The rain didn’t let up in the days to come, in fact, it only seemed to be growing heavier as the days passed. To the point where Azula was growing used to having to drive around in it. The television flickered in the background as she, Zuko, and their father had dinner. 

 

“Reckon it’s gonna stop any time soon?” Zuko asked. 

 

“I reckon that this weather ain’t normal.” Ozai shrugged. “This might as well be a summer storm, the way it keeps carrying on.” 

 

“Honestly, I’m tired a bein’ soaked by the time I get into school.” 

 

Waving his fork about, Zuko replied. “Yeah, same here.” 

 

“Folks on T.V say it’s supposed to get worse.” Ozai mumbled. 

 

Frankly, Azula wasn’t sure how that was even possible. She just knew that she wanted some sunshine back. She hadn’t been able to visit Sokka in days with the roads so flooded. She  and Zuko barely made it to school and she was growing worried that they’d end up having to walk if the road conditions grew any worse. And walking all those miles in the rain wouldn’t be an easy feat. 

 

She stole a glance through the window, but between the rain and the night she could see very little. Lightning provided only a brief glance at the now-harvested fields. “‘Suppose I should check on our cows.” Ozai pushed his chair in. “When I git back you can show me yer song.” 

 

Azula nodded. It still needed to be polished up, but the storms had delayed the contest anyhow. Too much interference with the power to run a decent radio show contest, is what they had told her. Not that she had any complaints. 

 

“What’d you write ‘bout?” Zuko asked. 

 

“Watchin’ the rain with a pig.” She replied. She’d have held Spade up if she could have, but Ozai had a strict no pigs at the table rule. Even if he didn’t, she couldn’t imagine that Spade was going to leave his hiding spot any time soon. The poor thing hated thunder almost as much as TyLee.  

 

Ozai re-entered with a dripping beard, a mud splashed face, and a scowl. “Cows are fine. I will shower ‘n then you can show me yer song.” 

 

Zuko chuckled when the man was out of earshot. “Them cows never did get along with dad.”

 

Azula shrugged.

 

**.oOo.**

 

“I’m gonna head off early.” Zuko announced. He could claim that he had to beat the rain all he wanted, Azula knew that it was just an excuse to see Mai. The sky was rather clear anyhow, so it was a poor excuse, but she didn’t call him on it. Instead she fixed herself a bowl of cereal and listened to the weather man drone on. Her father refused to miss the early morning and late night forecasts. 

 

Azula pushed in her chair and rinsed her bowl. “I’m gonna go pick Sokka up.” 

 

“Y’all be careful. You know how the weather can be.” Ozai called from the other room. 

 

She decided to herself that they would have cancelled classes if the weather was of any real concern but she responded with an, “I will,” regardless. 

 

The roads were still a mess of small debris and slush, she’d have to get to washing her car after the weather cleared. But at least they were driveable. By the time she pulled into Sokka’s driveway the clouds were beginning to brew again. Azula sighed, she could have sworn that the weather man had announced, at the very least, a clear morning commute. She gave the horn a good honk or two.    

 

She caught a silhouette jolt behind the curtain and then it scrambled out of the house. Clumsily, Sokka climbed into her truck, seemingly unphased by the growing grey. “Good mornin’, Azula.”  

 

She peered at the sky. “Eh...could be a better one.” She heard the first rumble of thunder. “A much better one.” 

 

She backed out of the driveway, unhappy to see a thick rain of muck instead of a cloud of dust. They had driven only to the first turn when Sokka spoke, “min’ if I tern on the radio?”

 

“Good luck gettin’ any reception.” She lifted her shoulders in a half shrug that didn’t take her hands off of the wheel. Had the roads been a little nicer, she would have chanced a full on shrug. She watched Sokka turn the dial to the left and then to the right. As expected, he only found faint static to show for his efforts. He clicked the radio off. 

 

“So how are ya gonna do that whole concert thingy?”

 

“It’s been postponed.” She replied. “I ain’t complainin’ though. I’d like to have a lil’ more time with my song. To practice ‘n maybe change some things, ya know?” 

 

Sokka nodded. He gave a jerk at a particularly loud bang sent courtesy of some nasty looking clouds. She thought of poor Spade, hiding under her bed and then of TyLee who was probably shivering, bedbound and home alone for a few extra recovery days. Azula almost wanted to skip school and visit the girl. But she didn’t want to hear another ‘good grades and hard work’ lecture from her father. The rain was coming down now, mercilessly so. “Shit.” She whispered to herself. She wasn’t one for that kind of speak, but she has had it with this weather. She could barely see where she was going. 

 

“Ya think ya should pull over?”

 

She looked at the time and bit her lip. “Probably.” They should have called classes off anyways. If they gave her a hard time, then they could hear it from her father. She pulled off to the side of the road, put the truck in park, and folded her arms over her chest. 

 

“Thinkin’ that ya shoulda stayed home taday?” Sokka asked. 

 

“Yup.” 

 

Sokka laughed, though Azula couldn’t see what was so funny. Just as soon as it started, the rain seemed to lighten up until it was little more than a couple of heavy drops now and again. But Azula didn’t resume the drive, something chilled her. Something she couldn’t place. She unbuckled her seat belt and stepped out of the truck. 

 

“What are ya doin’?” Sokka asked. 

 

Azula held up a hand and he went silent. Silent, just like everything else in the field around them. She listened for the rain, for the call of birds for anything. Her tension only grew.

 

It was so quiet. 

So very quiet.

A sense of foreboding stirred in her belly.

She knew this quiet. 

It was the same quite that came before Lu Ten’s death.

 

“Sokka, run.”

 

She didn’t need to say it, the look of dread on his face and his steady flow of profanities said that he was already well aware of their predicament. 

She fixed her eyes  on the sky. A shrill whine cut into the quiet and her heart picked up that much more. It was the kind of confirmation that set what she already knew into stone.  

She looked around almost frantically, everything was flat. So uselessly flat. Not a barn in sight, abandoned no otherwise. She looked back towards the truck, her stomach sinking even further at the horrific rumble. 

 

She could see it clearly, the look on Iroh’s face, when he came knocking on their doorbell to tell his brother about how Lu Ten had been ripped right from his hiding place under the overpass they sought shelter under. It was why her uncle cringed at the first flash of lightning no matter how mellow the storm. 

 

“Whaddo we do?” She barely heard him over the rumble. 

 

She simply grabbed his hand and pulled him back into the truck. She hustled to fasten her seatbelt as that sickly green sky glared mockingly down at her. 

 

“I thought we weren’t suppos’ta try ta out run ‘em!” 

 

“Myth!” Azula shouted. “There ain’t no safe way ta do this one.” After Lu Ten’s demise, Iroh had insisted that they researched tornado safety tips. She had, but that didn’t stop the man from drilling the facts he’d learned into her head. “They say that if you can’t find a place ta hide then yer best chance might be to drive away, fast as possible.” She was pretty sure that, that’s what she had read. Granted most of her sources advised that folks should do such only if they knew for sure which direction the twister was heading in, but she left that out. She also vaguely recalled reading somewhere that there weren’t many options for people facing a twister head on. It was behind them though, perhaps they had a chance. 

 

Azula threw the truck into drive and accelerated, steady but fast. The last thing they needed was for her to flip the vehicle herself. The engine roared, but not loud enough to overpower the freight train rattle of the tornado. 

 

“Shit.” Sokka hissed again. It wasn’t doing anything to ease the anxiety welling up. 

 

“Which direction is it gonin’?” 

 

“I...I think…” He trailed off. 

 

“Sokka!” 

 

“It’s hard ta tell!”

 

The peddle was practically to the floor, the fields rolled by in a blur. Azula couldn’t recall a time she drove so fast, much less on roads so muddy. Lord help her, what if she lost control? They’d be dead as soon as it happened. The sky opened into a rain again.

No, she realized. It was too heavy to be rain. 

The sky was spitting hail at her. She hoped...prayed that the windshield would hold. 

 

“Which way’s it goin’, Sokka!?” She yelled again.

 

“I think. I think that it’s right behind us.”

 

She gripped the steering wheel tighter. There had to be a house somewhere, at that point she wouldn’t be any opposed to kicking in someone’s door and rushing into the basement with a, “howdy y’all, fine weather we’re havin’.”

 

“What’s ma gonna do? What’s Kat gonna do?” She heard Sokka whimper. She didn’t dare glance behind her. 

Still she couldn’t help but ask the same about Iroh and Zuko. About her father. 

 

Azula heard a harsh thump and spiderwebs formed on the glass. It was becoming harder to drive against the wind, the streets were flooding with broken fence posts and tree twigs and fragments of furniture, so carelessly chucked about by the twister.  

 

Through a torrent of unrelenting rain and hail she could see a structure looming tauntingly close. From Sokka’s posture, knelt over in a silent prayer she knew that they didn’t have much time. She threw the truck in park and yanked him from the truck. “Sokka, c’mon.” 

Doing so she caught a glimpse of death. It was humblingly large, a stark reminder of just what mama nature could do. There were flashes of electricity as power lines snapped and flailed before getting sucked in like spaghetti twisting around a fork.

 

Azula dragged Sokka towards the house. He had to be in some sort of daze. “Dammit, Sokka, help me open this here thing.” She kicked at the door. The ‘for rent’ sign flapped wildly. “Fuck!” She shouts as the thing ripped from the ground and lodged itself in the door. It was just enough to snap the man into action. He threw his body against the door until it caved, sending the both of them crashing to the floor. They scrambled clumsily to their feet and frantically searched for the basement door. 

 

Azula pried it open, with the sound of rattling abandoned kitchen utensils haunting her ears. It smelled of musk and mold in there. Like something rotting, a healthy helping of spiders and other critters occupied the space with them. But in comparison they seemed harmless. 

 

The shatter of glass told her that the windows had busted. She gripped Sokka’s arm. As she pulled herself closer, she could feel him shaking. Or maybe she was. More likely, they were both trembling. They  could have been up there, only a moment or two longer and they could have been part of the debris. She heard a particularly loud bang and something poked through the ceiling. 

 

The rumbling was growing softer. 

Softer and softer until it was as dreadfully quiet as before the storm. 

Azula wasn’t sure just how long they’d stayed put for. 

 

She hadn’t realized she had been crying until Sokka wiped the tears from her eyes. The product of stress and relief. She allowed for a switch, she was now in his arms, his face buried in her hair. Another few minutes slipped by before Azula slowly got to her feet and even slowlier crept up the stairs. 

 

She didn’t know exactly what she expected to see, but it wasn’t a clear view of the mutilated field. The northmost wall had been torn away completely, pipes leaking and remaining boards bobbing perilously. There was an entire motorboat wedged into the floor. 

 

Unsure of how well the structure would withstand, Azula stepped around the wreckage with as much caution as she could. It mattered little that the place had been free of furniture when they entered, it was filled with it now; broken dolls, couch cushions, and lampshades.

 

“Look at this.” Sokka pointed. 

 

At first she saw only a bike, bent and twisted with a wheel still spinning. She followed his finger further to see combine laying toppled, its cutterbar facing skyward. “They shoulda cancelled class.” Ozai was going to have a fit for sure. 

 

“Ya don’t say.” Sokka muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

 

She hoped that Zuko was alright, that he’d left early enough to either miss it or be in the school building when the twister touched down. She reached into her pocket, groaning in defeat at the realization that she’d left it in her truck. Which--she looked around--may either be completely gone and swept away or that shiny red thing buried under a heap of trees and part of the roof. It would be one more thing for Ozai to fuss over, that truck was fairly new. 

 

She picked her way through the pile of debris until she found herself a seat, a battered lawnchair. “Make yerself comfy, Sokka, this could take a while.” 

 

The wind tousled her hair, gently and soothingly, a stark contrast to the force it had once been. Sokka rubbed at her shoulders. She noticed a streak of red on his forehead. His cheeks and clothes were coated in mud. She couldn’t imagine that she was in a much better state. She was soaked to the core. 

 

“I’m glad yer okay.” Sokka noted. 

 

She squeezed his hand. The sun beat down and the sound of birds was slowly coming back. The world was coming back to life. What a morning it had been. 


	14. Brightest After The Storm

The sun beat down as hard as it could for late mid-November. It had taken a few hours for the news to relay footage the destruction and an hour more for anyone to arrive on the scene. Sokka, perhaps more for his own comfort, hugged Azula tightly to him. She didn’t protest nor push him away. He’d come to notice that there was a pretty good gash on her ribcage and a few smaller scratches on her cheeks. He listened to the sound of water spilling from a broken pipe and the turning of that battered bike’s wheel. “Ya saved us both.” He commented at last. 

 

Azula nodded. “I ain’t wanna end up like cousin Lu-Ten.” 

 

“Yer hurt.”

 

Azula brought her hands to the gash on her side and winced. “I’ll be fine.”

 

It was hard to tell how she was feeling. But he was glad that she was with him. God forbid he was alone when the storm struck. He had a good feeling that he wouldn’t be around, he didn’t deal well with storms like that. 

 

“If only Kat were here, she’d know what ta do ‘bout that. She were always good at that kinda stuff.” 

 

“I’ll be alright, Sokka.” Azula insisted again. 

 

But he was still worried. He wasn’t even sure what had torn her leg like that. He held her hands and rubbed the back of them with his thumbs. His gaze never leaving hers even when they didn’t speak. She didn’t have to talk to him, it was enough that she was there. 

 

He couldn’t exactly pinpoint when things had started to shift, but they had. He thought that maybe it was the night of the fair, when he came to comfort her. That was when things had changed for him. He had a feeling it had been some sooner for her, otherwise she wouldn’t have stopped by so often. 

But Azula was a hard person to read. 

No, he didn’t know when things had changed between them, but they had. He hated being stranded in the middle of nowhere, but at least he was stuck there with her. If she wasn’t bleeding so much he’d be grateful for alone time with someone he cherished so much…

Someone he loved. 

 

“Are ya sure that yer doin’ okay?”

 

“Sokka, you ask that one more time, I swear…”  

 

He laughs, the fight still in her was reassuring enough.

 

**.oOo.**

 

She picked the band-aids off of her face as soon as she got home. She hadn’t wanted them anyhow, no more than she wanted the seven stitches in her side. They handed her a bottle of painkillers that she had no interest in and told her to come back in a week for a check up. If she ended up lucky, they’d be able to remove the stitches then.  Her ribcage throbbed, but it was something that she could ignore of she threw all of her energy into finishing the song she’d written while in the waiting room. She thought it was a better one than her old one anyhow; nice as the song she’d written with Sokka was, there was much more intensity to a song about a tornado. She figured that the switch wouldn’t offend Sokka being as he’d thrown a few lyrics at her in the waiting room as well. 

It wouldn’t be too much of a task, she’d simply sing the same notes and melody she’d been practicing with the other one. The only thing that’d change would be the lyrics. 

Worse comes to worst, she wasn’t bad with improv either. 

 

No sooner had she pulled out her guitar did a knock sound at her door. She put the instrument down and opened it. 

“Yer uncle wants to talk to you. You know how he feels about…” 

 

Azula nodded. 

 

“When yer done on the phone with him, come downstairs fer dinner.

 

Azula took the phone and nodded again, preparing herself for a good round of tears and having to comfort her uncle. Her close call had probably put the man back into a darker place. “I’m fine uncle, just needed a few stitches is all, I can handle myself…”

 

“Lu-Ten were an army boy.” Iroh replied. “Tough as they come. It don’t matter how tough you are, you ain’t tougher than nature, girl.” She should have seen the lecture coming. “I’ll tell you what I tol’ Lu-Ten ‘for I lost him. When nature throws ‘erself a fit, you don’t try to fight ‘er, you beg ‘er for mercy. She ain’t like a soldiers, she’s stronger than that…” 

 

Azula listened to him go on and on about the fury of nature. 

 

“She takes what she will. You tell yer brother that too.”

 

“I will.” Azula replied. 

 

“I’m lucky, yer dad is lucky that he ain’t lose you. He’s lucky he ain’t know what it’s like to lose a chil’ so early.” 

 

Azula swallowed, truth be told he was making her grow uncomfortable. Before then she had lived and that was all there was to it. But he set her thinking. Thinking about how she had been perhaps seconds away from death. About what would have happened if they hadn’t happened upon that house or if Sokka hadn’t been able to get it open. 

Would her father have broken again?

Would Zuko have?

 

“I’ll be careful.” She mumbled to Iroh. Of course she would still go out in stormy weather, but she’d pay it more attention. 

 

“You best keep that promise.” Iroh stated firmly. “This family lost yer ma ‘n Lu-Ten. We ain’t losin’ you too.” 

 

With that on her mind she joined Zuko and Ozai at the dinner table. “You ridin’ to school with me on Monday or is Sokka drivin’ you?” Zuko asked. 

 

“Haven’t decided.” Azula looked to her father. 

 

“I’ll have you a new car once the insurance company gets back to me.”

 

Azula nodded and things grew quiet. A silence that was only broken when Ozai asked her how her song was coming along. She supposed that it was his way of dealing with or masking concern. “It’s ready fer tomorrow.” 

 

“And yer ready to perform it?” 

 

Azula nodded. 

 

Ozai smiled. “That’s my girl.” He turned to Zuko. “Yer sister is resilient. Lives through a twister and she’s still ready to perform.” 

 

It was just a radio show though, it wasn’t like she’d have to stand or exert herself in a physical way. Still it was reassuring that he wasn’t still going on about her first mishap. She felt an arm on her shoulder. “I don’t know what I woulda done…” Ozai trailed off. “I already lost yer mother.” 

 

She couldn’t remember the last time he hugged her and the weight of the situation set in. Just as well as she couldn’t remember the last time her father hugged her, she couldn’t recall the last time she’d cried.

How close she had come.

What if she’d made it and Sokka didn’t. 

 

She heard Zuko set his fork down and come to join them. Lord, was she glad that she was able to bring Sokka home to his mama. 


	15. Overturned

Azula could see them on the other side of the glass, her father and Sokka and Zuko with a cup of coffee and Mai in his lap. Her own little live studio audience. She was the last to perform, she supposed it made sense being as Ozai had signed her up so late. Waiting on everyone else did little to ease her nerves, but at least she knew exactly what she was up against this time around. She finished tuning her guitar as Wan Shi Tong, in his soothing radio timbre, announced her as the final contestant. 

 

She strummed the first two notes, fully aware of her father’s presence. She caught Sokka’s eye and began. It was easier somehow, to sing, when he was shooting her that soft and encouraging smile. In some way it reminded her of why she’d written the song in the first place. 

The thought of losing that familiar and boyish face to a raging storm cloud. She supposed that it added a sort of power to the song to think of the event that inspired it. 

 

Soft, yet intense, Azula flowed through lyrics describing a late summer storm at noon. About a young man who had to go to town to make a delivery for his mother. By the second verse the clouds had stirred into a frenzy and the boy’s mother was trying to call him, to warn him of the sirens blaring in the town over. But the boy didn’t hear. 

 

Prior to the contest Azula had put in a lot of thought into how she wanted the song to end. Would he make it out alive and unscathed, alive and damaged, or would he parish. She almost gave the song a happy ending, but her thoughts had turned to Lu Ten. To Iroh. She considered that perhaps, all along, the song was meant for Iroh, was meant to pay the respects that she couldn’t as a child, too young to fully grasp the weight of what had happened. 

Besides, it would make little sense to have an uplifting ending for a song sung completely in minor key.

 

**.oOo.**

 

Her speaking voice was heavenly. 

Her singing voice, heaven sent. 

Like the wings of a dragonfly cutting a small ripple through a pond.

 

She had her hair pulled back in a ponytail, likely to keep it from spilling onto her guitar and getting in the way. Her expression was somewhat distant, somber in a sense and Sokka thought that he could understand why she didn’t want to sing about her ma in front of everyone. But this…

This was exactly what a song of its kind needed. 

 

He had to admit that he was a little disappointed that Azula wasn’t singing the song they’d written together, but he supposed that there would be plenty of time for that when she made an album. Heck, he might even get to sing it with her if he batted his eyes enough. 

 

He listened to her intensely as she transitioned from the pre-chorus to the chorus; a few careful lyrics about how the boy couldn’t stop what was coming anymore than he could stop the sun from shining, how it finally set in that he was in danger. And then into the bridge, a turning point. A point where Azula no longer sung of the boy, but of an old house in the distance that came crashing down. 

 

Sokka spared a look at Ozai, the man gave a pleased half smile. Zuko seemed to hold Mai’s hand with a little more force. 

By the song’s end, the boy was dead with his truck overturned.

The last strum of her guitar faded. 

The studio was silent for a while, with only the hum of the recording equipment. Sokka wanted to clap, but he wasn’t entirely sure that it was appropriate for the mood of the song and for the contest itself. At last Wan Shi Tong spoke. “Thank you for your entry.” He paused. “It was a very heavy and beautiful piece.” 

 

Azula nodded. “Thank you.” 

 

“No, thank you.” Wan Shi Tong smiled. He handed her a certificate, what was likely a suvionior for having part taken. To his audience Wan Shi Tong said, “go online to cast your vote. The poll will close in two hours and then our winning two participants will sing a second song.” 

 

Sokka looked up to see Azula go tense.

 

**.oOo.**

 

She hadn’t anticipated a second song.

She supposed that she could sing the one that she and Sokka wrote, but how was a silly thing about watching rain on the porch going to top what she’d just sung? She wandered out of the recording booth and greeted the others. Sokka didn’t miss a beat before pulling her into a hug and patting her on the head. 

 

“What’d I tell you ‘bout that?”

 

“‘Bout huggin’ ya?”

 

“‘Bout head pats…”

 

“That they’re yer favorite things ‘n ya want morea them?” 

 

Azula gave a humored sniff before freeing herself from his embrace. 

 

“Well done, princess.” Ozai rested a hand on her back. She couldn’t recall the last time he’d referred to her as his princess. It was probably around the time she’d traded dress-up clothing for practical wear and riding outfits. These days, the nickname was reserved for her birthday and times when she made him proud. It put a brightness in her expression to hear it again. 

 

“You went ‘n made Mai emotional.” Zuko spoke, wiping a tear from his eye.

 

Azula looked to Mai, who looked as impassive as ever. “I ain’t so sure she’s the emotional one.” 

 

Ozai glanced at his watch. “How would you like a celebratory lunch?”

 

“I ain’t won yet.” Azula replied. 

 

Ozai raised a questioning eyebrow, the sort that told her he had complete confidence that she had. She supposed that a nice lunch couldn’t hurt any. It would drive the anxious jitters out. It was a rather chilly evening, at last they were seeing weather more suitable for the season. The forecasters were already calling for snow. But Zuko still insisted on sitting outside. So Azula ordered herself a steaming cup of hot coco and pressed herself ridiculously close to Sokka, the boy was warm enough. 

  
  


Upon finishing lunch, Ozai hustled them back to the radio station. As soon as they re-orginized themselves into their chairs, Wan Shi Tong began his smooth drawl. “Lots of wonderful participants this time ‘round. But it wouldn’t be no contest if there weren’t winners ‘n losers.” 

 

Azula took a final sip of her hot chocolate, just to give herself something to do, and then set the empty cup aside. 

 

“As voted by you lovely folks, we have our winners.” He paused. “Country rocker, June with her song, Drunk Hick…”

 

Ozai bunched his nose, that one had been his least favorite entry; a rough and crass song about putting a bullet between the eyes of a drunken, sorry excuse of a husband. It wasn’t exactly Azula’s style per-say, but she had to respect the bluntness of it and the woman’s willingness to put her foot down, even if it was just a song. 

 

“Our second winner is our las’ minute contestant…” 

 

He didn’t have to say her name. She was the only latecomer to the contest. 

 

“...Azula for her song, Overturned.” 

 

Her elation was fleeting, burned away as soon as she remembered that she only had a second song from June to come up with something that could top her first song. She watched the older woman slip into the recording booth. Without so much as a greeting she muttered, “sorry I’m late, didn’t think I’d win. This next one’s called, ‘Kiss My Redneck Ass’. Thanks fer havin’ me.” 

 

If nothing else the bunched up look of disgust on her father’s face was worth seeing. Zuko’s snigger told her that he hadn’t missed it. 

 

For as much as Sokka joked about the song’s title and how it was easy competition, the song was actually rather good. Catchy and, if a listener chose to dive beneath the surface, as powerful as the first but in a different way. Per Azula’s interpretation it was about a victim of domestic violence regaining her drive, passion, and freedom. Another rather formidable entry.

 

All too soon, it was her turn to perform again. And she knew it, she knew that she couldn’t just sing a generic song about rain watching, not after singing something so profound. Not after her competition had delivered such a passionate, empowering number. 

 

She gripped her guitar with more tightness than she ought to. She positioned herself before the microphone. This was a radio performance, in which case, she supposed that it wouldn’t matter. They wouldn’t see her face. 

They wouldn’t be able to see her cry...


	16. Weren't So Bad

Seeing her now let Sokka know exactly why Azula had been so reluctant to sing the song she’d written about her mother. She wasn’t crying, not yet, but the expression that dimmed her face...it was telling enough.  Singing a song that was loosely about Lu-Ten was something of a tearjerker. This, was raw and unchecked emotion. Her voice held such of genuine and potent sorrow that couldn’t be replicated even by the most seasoned actors. The kind of emotion that many of her other songs lacked. 

 

He yearned to reach for her when the pre-chorus hit. When she began sing of a two children coming home to find their mother as cold as the bottle in her hand. The longing intensified when Azula transitioned into the chorus, singing about how the child knew that it was her fault. His stomach ached with sympathy. And all of those feelings doubled when he caught the first tear slip down her cheek. Though she had taken to leaning  over her guitar in such a way that her hair obscured most of her face, he could see it on her. He has come to know her well enough to understand what that posture meant; it was defeat and distress. 

She seldom took up that stance. 

 

Sokka momentarily averted his gaze to look at Zuko; it couldn’t have been easy on him to be reminded of childhood ghosts. His hold on Mai tightened, Sokka could see a frown spread upon her face but he could also tell that she didn’t have the heart to ask him to loosen his grip. 

 

Ozai’s face was stoic, forcibly so. Sokka could tell that the blank expression was rehearsed, he knew because it is the very same look Azula usually gave him before caving to her emotions and then tearfully but firmly reminding him that he has seen nothing, before pressing her face against his chest and letting herself cry softly. 

Not that he expected Ozai to cry on his shoulder. 

 

Azula’s voice came out softer still, and with a hint of shakiness. He hoped that, that wouldn’t hurt her chances. Somehow, he got the feeling that it would aid her. It was something she simply couldn’t fake. It was a wonder to him that she could hold her melodies and notes so well, with such a heaviness on her mind.  

 

**.oOo.**

 

It became harder with each line to completely keep from losing her composure. And harder still as she plunged deeper into the story. To the bridge where her self blame reached its peak. The last few verses are a particular struggle, recounting how her father had broke. She spared the details of how he came to land in an institution, she had thought of omitting that part entirely. But what did it matter, she was already pouring a hefty amount of her soul into this one. She refused to do anything halfway. 

 

She watched her father’s face intensely, observed how he went tense at the mention of himself. She hoped that he wasn’t angry. He seldom went rigid without anger behind it. She came to her last line and the stinging behind her eyes and the sorrow doing flops in her belly were coming to a head. She knew that she wasn’t going to last. Yet she was so close. So close to finishing without losing it. The song ended not on a note, but with a half, just barely controlled sob. 

 

Azula put her guitar to the side and the recording booth fell silent.

 

She barely heard Wan Shi Tong’s awkward cough as he did his best to work through the newly created tension--bless the man’s soul--to announce final voting. When he cut to the commercial break Azula spoke, “do you keep a recordin’ of yer live shows?” Her voice is still light with grief and fading anxiety. 

 

She was torn between hoping that he did not and hoping that he did. How useful it would be to have that recording for an album, should she ever get the chance. She couldn’t even dream of being able to reproduce that. It was the sort of powerful emotion that Sokka insisted was necessary for success. 

 

She could give it her best, but she would never be able to cry like that, during a song, again. She wouldn’t have the courage or the ability to swallow her pride enough to do so. 

 

“I keep a recordin’ a alla  my broadcasts.” Wan Shi Tong replied. 

 

“How much do you want fer today’s.” She held up her credit card. 

 

Wan Shi Tong pauses for a moment. “Tell you what. If you win the contest, it’s yours free ‘a charge.”

 

Azula nodded. She made her way out of the recording booth and quietly took a seat between her father and Sokka. The boy made off to pull her into a hug, but Ozai got there first. It wasn’t a full embrace, so much as pulling her in to lean her head on his shoulder as he rubbed her bicep.  

 

“It was a good song, Azula.” Zuko commented. 

 

Azula only nodded, she didn’t feel like doing much else. She wondered to herself if it had been worth it to drag up that song. At first she could swear that it wasn’t, she felt so drained. And yet, she felt somehow lighter.

She wished TyLee could be there. The girl always knew what to say, whether she knew it or not. But her mother had to go and schedule a follow up doctor appointment that conflicted with the broadcast hours. 

 

“Ready to git home?” Ozai asked. 

 

Azula nodded. They stood, his hand moving from her bicep to her back. It was the same gesture he’d given her when she’d won her first trophy for the school’s debate team. 

 

**.oOo.**

 

Sokka couldn’t contain the pout on his face. He wanted to put an arm on Azula’s back and comfort her, but her father was not sharing. He folded his arms over his chest, torn between wanting to be comforting and not wanting to intrude on one of the rarer moments when the girl’s father was openly affectionate. 

 

He didn’t have his chance to lend a comforting hand until they were at home in her bedroom. 

 

“I hope you ain’t too disappointed that I didn’t use our song.”

 

“No!” Sokka replied abruptly. “I like the ones ya went with. Ya worked hard on ‘em.” He watched her spread herself out on her mattress. “Can I?” He asked. 

 

Azula nodded and patted a spot on the bed next to her. Sokka laid himself down and for a while they said nothing. He observes her staring at the ceiling. “It musta been hard ta sing alla that.” He commented when the silence finally became too uncomfortable for him.”

 

“Actually…” Azula trailed off. “It weren’t so bad.”  

 

**.oOo.**

 

It was a relief to have finally ripped off the band-aid that she had worn for years. “After I started, anyways.”

 

“It ain’t yer fault. What happened.” Sokka moved some stray locks out of her face. 

 

“I know.” She replied. “Still feels that way sometimes though.”  She felt his fingers curl around her hand and squeeze. 

 

“Ya’ve had a stressful week haven’t ya?” 

 

Azula shrugged, “eh, it weren’t so bad.”

 

Sokka laughed, a chuckle with enough intensity to shake the bed. “Ya were caught in a ternader…”

 

“No, we were in a tornado.”

 

He thumped her arm, “I ain’t able ta help my accent.” 

 

Azula rolled her eyes and laughed, silently repeating ‘ternader’ to herself. “Really, Sokka?”

 

Sokka sighed. “Anyway...ya were in a...twister…”

 

She cuts him off with another laugh, had he really just gone out of his way to avoid using ‘tornado’? He ignored her mockery for the time being. “...and ya say that it weren’t so bad? What kin’a stuff would have ta happen fer it ta have been a bad week?”

 

“I coulda been in the ternader,” at that Sokka frowned, “alone. I’m glad that you don’t leave me alone.”

 

“That ain’t what you said when I were talkin’ to ya while ya were trin’ ta write.” 

 

“That’s different.” Azula grumbled. Her face grew serious. “I ain’t had no one help me like you do, Sokka. Most people just nod ‘n say ‘okay’ when I tell them I ain’t wanna talk ‘bout somethin’...” She didn’t really know what she was tryin to say. Perhaps that he was special to her. “I ain’t really have anyone like you before.” 

 

She had kissed the boy so why couldn’t she just bring herself to say it out loud. 

“I love...” She paused, losing her nerve and deciding that she had put herself out there too much for one day. “...that you came out to see me sing today.” 

 

“I love listening to you sing.” He smiled, patting the back of her hand. 

 

She wondered if she needed to say anything at all. If the gestures were telling enough. 


	17. White Mornings

Azula woke to snow on her window sill. It was falling quite heavily, just as forecasted. She stared at the trophy resting on her nightstand. She carefully ran her finger over the delicate golden acoustic guitar and then over the cowboy hat it leaned against. It was unbelievable in some sense, almost to the point where she thought she was imagining it. But the plaque fashioned to the base of the award was very clear; ‘The Sleeping Mother’ and below that, in smaller, curling text was her full name. 

 

It was thrice as surreal to see the envelope below. The record deal. Her invitation to the career she’d been chasing since she was a girl. The recording studio, the letter informed her, would be open to her any time after the Christmas season.

 

She brushed her fingers over the letter to make sure it was really there. 

It was. 

It always was. 

It had been for a week or so. 

 

She pulled herself out of bed and rubbed the remnants of sleep from her eyes. She pulled her hair back and made her way into the kitchen. But something was missing, the smell of pancakes or bacon and eggs wasn’t there to greet her. 

 

Instead she found a note on the table. ‘Went to visit your uncle.’ And then another beneath it, ‘Same. - Z.’ 

 

Azula rolled her eyes at Zuko’s little addition.  She would have joined them if she hadn’t already promised Sokka that he could come over and help her start writing songs for her debut album. Besides, driving in the snow, even if she wasn’t the one behind the wheel, always left her on edge and she’d be seeing plenty of her Iroh as the holidays grew closer. The man always dropped by with an unannounced, surprise Christmas carol.

 

She ate breakfast by the window, watch small flakes gather in the trees and on her porch. Perhaps she could invite TyLee, Mai, and Sokka to help them decorate for the holidays. Azula fetched herself a blanket, wrapped it tightly around her shoulders, and took a seat by the door. Sokka should arrive shortly. 

 

**.oOo.**

 

He stepped out of the car, normally Azula would meet him halfway down the driveway. This time she simply stood in the doorway, shivering. He didn’t know how he could forget about her complete aversion to the cold. She rushed him inside and motioned for him to take his coat off. 

 

“It’s really beautiful.” He pointed with his thumb in the direction of the sparkling sheet gathering between blades of grass. 

 

He could see the skepticism on her face. “If you say so.”

 

“I got ya somethin’.” He tossed her a knit hat.

 

“It’s completely hideous ‘n lopsided.” 

 

“Thanks! I made it myself.” Sokka beamed. 

 

Azula rolled her eyes. “Hot chocolate?”

 

Sokka nodded and she fixed him a mug. 

 

She led him to the sofa and took a seat. “I had a few songs in mind for this album. The three we’ve already worked on and…”

 

“A song ‘bout how ya have such an amazin’ ‘n helpful friend who makes hats for ya.”

 

“Not quite what I had in mind, Sokka.” She paused. “I was thinkin’ ‘bout writin’ a song about summer. The parties we used to have ‘n all that.” 

 

Sokka nodded. It sounded like a plan to him, he just wanted to hear her sing, her voice had such a soothing tonality. Like a lullabye. He handed her, her guitar. 

 

“I was thinkin’ ‘bout doin’ an acapella song too.” She pauses. “There ain’t many of those around so I wanna do somethin’ different.” 

 

He certainly didn’t have anything against hearing nothing but Azula’s voice. For the time being, Azula set her guitar to the side. Without its backing her vocals were almost clearer, drifting and light and easy to listen to. 

 

They were familiar, and perhaps that was why it was so easy for him to nod off.  When he reawakened, it was to Azula’s fingers running through his hair--an absent motion on her end, he thought. He was leaning against her and, if he were to be honest, he was surprised that she hadn’t shoved him right off. 

  
  


**.oOo.**

 

“Want me ta git a fire goin’?”

 

Azula shook her head. She liked him where he was. 

 

“I’ll come right on back.” 

  
Azula hesitated before letting him wander over to the fireplace. He got it to spark to life and then he returned, holding a blanket out to her. She stood so that he could wrap it around the both of them, before resuming their former positions with him propped up against her and she stroking his hair. He was making plenty of Sokka chatter, it was hard to listen with the noise of her own mind. Expression never came easy to her. 

 

But somehow, Sokka always seemed to get it out of her. She knew that he would again when he noted her quietness. “Whatcha  thinkin’ ‘bout?” 

 

Azula shrugged. “Nothin’.” 

 

Sokka gave her a look that let her know that he saw right through that. “We’ve been friends fer so long, ya can tell me what yer thinkin’.”

 

“Maybe we shouldn’t be friends.” The look of sheer horror on his face reminded her that she wasn’t ever particularly good with social matters. “I ain’t mean that how you think…”

 

He cocked his head. “There ain’t many other thin’s that it could mean.” 

 

Azula took his hand, pausing there for a moment before offering him a small kiss. It was shorter than the first one, but it was on the lips. She pulled back and let the silence in. It remained just long enough for her stomach to flutter, but then he smiled. 

 

“I think I git it.” Sokka noted. 

 

“I hope so.” Azula mumbled. 

 

“I think maybe ya should do it one more time. Ya know, jus’ ta make sure I got the message.”

 

She rolled her eyes and leaned in a second time. 


	18. The Blizzard

It was both strange and thrilling to hear her music on the radio. Her own voice cutting through the static. She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about it. For as much as she loved singing, she didn’t know that she liked hearing the sound of her own voice. Not coming from a radio anyhow.  Especially, knowing that it would end with hearing herself choke up. She supposed that it was something that she was just going to have to get used to. Ideally it would be happening more often. 

 

Iroh offered to her, a kind smile. “Congratulations, niece. Your mother would have it, she always did like that kinda song”

 

“She did?”

 

Iroh nodded. “She was a musical woman ‘erself.” 

 

“You sing like her.” Ozai cut in. “Almos’ exactly like her.” 

 

Azula swallowed and nodded, not know quite how to take the news. She made herself comfy near the window. Sokka and Katara would be there soon and hopefully Mai and TyLee in tow. As she had hoped, the lot of them would be decorating the house together. It was so large she couldn’t see it getting done without a few extra hands. 

 

Sokka and Katara lived the closest to her, so it came as a surprise when TyLee rang the door first. It was a struggle for her  to do so with the crutches in the way, but she leaned in to give Azula an awkwardly angled hug. “I heard yer song on the radio!” She gushed. “It’s so purtty ‘n sad but breathtaking ‘n lovely at the same time.”

 

“Thank you, Ty.” Azula helped the girl into a chair. “Window’s fine, right?” 

 

TyLee nodded. “I love lookin’ at the snow. Winter’s my favorite.”

 

“Well, I know that. You’ve only been sayin’ that since we were kids.” Azula paused. “So, how’s yer leg.” 

 

TyLee stared down at it. “Well, my doctor said that it should be healed pretty soon.” And with more glee she added, “Only a few more weeks.”

 

Her optimism was precious, yet the smile on Azula’s face couldn’t last. She wasn’t one for apologies but one was escaping her lips before she could hold it back. Somehow she felt awful for having achieved her dream after obliterating TyLee’s, accident or not. 

 

“What are you appologizin’ fer?” TyLee asked. 

 

“ You ain’t win because of me.” 

 

“The county fair comes ‘round every year. It was a lil’ crazy with my family hostin’ it anyways.” TyLee shrugged. “‘Sides, Mai told me about a competition that ain’t local that happens in the spring. I’m gonna go fer that.” 

 

“You’ll have to invite me.” Azula smiled. “I promise I won’t ruin it this time.”  

 

Once again, Azula found TyLee’s arms around her torso. “Of course you can come. I wouldn’t wanna compete without you watchin’.” 

 

She heard the doorbell. Before she could stand, Zuko was at the door.

 

“They’re jus’ on time fer tea ‘n cookies.” Azula heard Iroh call from in the kitchen. Enthusiasm oozed in his tone, the man had been waiting all year to break out his holiday assortment of teas, which mostly consisted of mint mixes.

 

**.oOo.**

 

Katara was generous enough to drive that time around, in fact, the girl was rather insistent upon it. Their mother’s warning was probably fresh in her mind. Not that he could tell by looking at the light little flurries, but apparently they were in for a blizzard. The forecasters had been calling for it all night. 

At the moment, the weather wasn’t too terrible, and the roads were pretty drivable. Kya made the both of them promise that if the roads became particularly icy, that they would just spend the night with Azula’s family. From the looks of it, they wouldn’t have the need. Though no green could be seen beneath a blanket of pure white, the roads were plowed well enough. 

 

Katara hopped out of her car, she had to be the only person in their whole town who didn’t have herself a truck. She made her way to the trunk and pulled out their tin of cookies. Ma’s special winter recipe, the one she had yet to pass down to either of her children. 

 

Sokka knocked on the door. Completely expecting it to be Azula standing there, he threw his arms around the person who answered. 

 

“I’m happy to see you too, Sokka.” Zuko rolled his eyes. “Though I was expectin’ Mai.” 

 

Sokka flushed and rubbed the back of his head. He could hear Katara’s bursting laughter behind him and his face felt that much hotter. “I were expectin’ yer sister.”  

 

“She’s with TyLee in the livin’ room.” Zuko pointed. “Once Mai gets here we can start on decoratin’.”

 

“I refuse to hang the lights up.” Azula declared. 

 

“That’s dad’s job anyways.” Zuko shrugged. 

 

Sokka plopped himself down on the sofa next to his...was it safe to call her his girlfriend? “Yer wearin’ my hat!” He smiled. 

 

“Yeah. You know how many folks are questionin’ my fashion choices now?” Azula mumbled, crossing her arms. 

 

Azula was risking her reputation now. It really was true love.

 

**.oOo.**

 

Only thirty or so minutes in and Azula’s hands were already pulsing with cold, hell, that had started probably fifteen minutes in. Her cheeks were probably a decent shade of pink and she was sniffling to top it all off. Regardless, she hug a wreath on the barn door. Across the way, Zuko and Mai--who had arrived well into the decorating process--were lining candy canes along the driveway. Katara and TyLee were taking care of the barn and hanging a few icicle lights were they could reach without the use of a ladder. 

 

Sokka held out a roll of tinsel made to look like ivy and holly. Azula looked upon the perimiter of their fencing and let out a soft groan. Why’d her property have to be so damn large. Walking to all four corners of it and back would be her exercise for the day. 

 

“Ya wanna do the lights or the tinsel?”

 

Azula elbowed him. “Ain’t you pay attention? I said I ain’t fussin’ with the lights this year.” 

 

He tossed her the tinsel and they worked their way from the upper righthand corner to the left, weaving tinsel and lights into the fence as they went. By the time they had that task finished the wind was beginning to pick up, spitting bursts of snow at them without mercy. 

 

“Suppose we should git on back, ma said it was supposta get bad.” Sokka informed. 

 

Normally she would question the man’s judgment, he wasn’t the best for gauging the weather. But this time, she had a feeling he and his ma were correct. The weather had taken a turn pretty quick. 

 

“Kat ‘n I better git on home ‘for it gets real bad.” 

 

“Uh-uh. Yer stayin’ right here tonight.” She didn’t save the boy from a tornado just to lose him to a different weather phenomenon. “You better not put yer sister in danger like that either.” She thought unfondly of the few times, as children, where Zuko had insisted that they stay at the park a little longer. Which had always ended up being just long enough for them to get caught within a wicked downpour.

 

“But Ma…”

 

“Can handle bein’ on her own fer the night.” Katara approached. “‘Sides, she said ta stay here if the weather got bad.” 

 

**.oOo.**

 

Wrapped, once again, in the blankets with Azula, Sokka could say why he had put up any protest at all. The girl looked relaxed sitting before the fire with a book in one hand and Iroh’s homemade mint-chocolate tea in the other. Katara had taken it upon herself to let their ma know that they wouldn’t be home that night and that Ozai had showed them to the guest rooms already. 

 

He listened to similar calls from TyLee and Mai respectively. The passing of an hour left them with only firelight for illumination. 

 

“When do y’all reckon they’ll have the power back on?” Sokka asked. 

 

“Last time it took ‘em a good week.” Zuko noted. 

 

Mai hovered by the window, the girl hadn’t left it since they’d gotten inside, making herself into their own personal news anchor who provided life updates; “Yup, still frosty.” or “nope, no changes. No wait! Nope, still snowy.”  Most recently it was, “pretty sure we’re gonna be snowed in.”

 

“How deep is the snow?” Azula put her book to the side. 

 

“Hmm.” Mai muttered. “I’d say deeper than Jet’s personality but no shallower than Chan’s.” 

 

Azula rolled her eyes. “Thanks fer the update.” 

 

“Anytime.” Mai mumbled, returning her gaze back to the window. 

 

**.oOo.**

 

“Oh! If we get snowed in it will be like an extended slumber party. It’s exicitin’ don’t ya think?”  TyLee perked up. 

 

The look on her father’s face at those words...Azula had to stifle a laugh. Her father could handle a night or two with Mai, TyLee, Sokka, and Katara but three would be pushing it. And at the rate the snow was falling, three nights snowed in wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. For herself, Azula wouldn’t mind spending that much more time with her friend, hell, she was even fine with Katara being there. It had been a good long while since they’ve had a sleepover. 

 

“Ya think ma’ll be alright?” Sokka asked. 

 

“A’course she will.” Katara replied. “We have plenty ‘a food left over from the harvest. She ken handle herself.” 

 

But Azula could feel how tense Sokka still was. “It’ll be fine, Sokka.” She murmured, giving his torso a little squeeze. 

 

“Thanks, Azula.” 

 

She rested her head at the crook of his neck. “C’mon, this happens every winter, yer mother made it out okay then, she can do it again.” Sparing Ozai a quick glance and finding that he wasn’t paying attention, she kissed Sokka’s ear. One of these days she was going to have to get the man used to see her kissing Sokka. She’d have to wait until after the blizzard, the poor man would probably have a stress-related heart attack if she added a boyfriend onto their extended sleepover. Not that Ozai hadn’t taken note of how closely she held Sokka, but she’d let him keep his denial for the time being. 

 

She probably wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding it though, begin as  Ozai responded to Iroh’s, “radio says we’re gonna git a few feet tanight.”  With a, “these kids are gonna drive me mad ‘for the snow reaches a foot.”

 

“Hey, we should all play truth or dare.” TyLee declared. 

 

Ozai’s concern doubled. 

 

“Spin the bottle.” Azula suggested. 

 

Tripled. 

“We should all play, got ta bed ‘n leave yer ol’ man alone.” He grumbled.

 

Zuko laughed. Azula was certain that the remark had even earned a chuckle from Mai, who, otherwise, still hadn’t averted her attention from the window. Frankly it was rather nice to have a break from everything, even if it was because it was too frigid for the world to not come to a standstill. As chilly as it was, Sokka was warm. She nestled closer up to him. 


	19. A Good Talk

Two days under heavy snow had left them plenty of time to work on songs. At times it wasn’t just she and Sokka. TyLee would often join them and Mai and Zuko on occasions. Including the three songs she had already, Azula had a total of six. It was half an album and she still had plenty of time to spare. So, for the time being, Azula put her guitar aside. 

 

“I really wanna go build a snowman or somethin’ TyLee commented. 

 

“Good luck gettin’ outside.” Azula shrugged. 

 

TyLee frowned, eyeing the white coated world outside Azula’s bedroom window with an unapologetic longing. The snow out there was deeper than it had been in years and it was piled nearly halfway up the door. “I ain’t ever seen this much snow in my life.” Azula commented. 

 

“I don’t think I ever did either.” TyLee agreed. “Whad ‘bout you, Sokka?”

 

“Same as y’all.” 

 

Azula moved over to her bed to snatch her blanket. This weather was going to leave her sick and sniffling. She reckoned that Ozai wouldn’t be too thrilled about having to fix her soup and fetch her medicine. 

 

“Lordy, yer han’s are col’, Azula.” 

 

“Everythin’s cold.” She returned. 

 

“Yeah.” TyLee agreed. “Ain’t yer dad hear of heaters?” 

 

“He has, but he says that fire’s the way to do it.” 

 

“He’s gonna need ta set the whole house on fire if wants ta do it like that.” Sokka commented, slinging his arm around her shoulder. 

 

TyLee glanced between the pair and suddenly her face lit up. “You finally did it didn’t y’all!?”

 

“I don’t know what yer talkin’ ‘bout, Ty.”

 

“You ‘n Sokka!” She practically squealed.

 

“Whad ‘bout us?” Sokka asked. 

 

“Yer together now, right?”

 

Azula flushed, “we might be.” 

 

TyLee beamed even wider. And to Sokka she says, “I been tellin’ Azula that she  _ liked  _ you since before the fair. She said that she ain’t though, but I knew the truth.” Azula folded her arms over her chest as TyLee continued to ramble. “Oh y’all are sooo cute.” She paused, but only briefly. “So when are ya gonna tell yer pops?” 

  
  


Azula groaned. “I’m sure he’ll figure it out on his own.” 

  
  


**.oOo.**

 

They spent the better part of the day decorating the interior of the house and stirring hot chocolate with spoons made of candy canes. They had made good work of Azula’s family’s estate, if Sokka said so himself. They lined the stairwell and banisters with holly and set glittering candles of gold and silver in every window sill amid other Christmas decor. Katara had fixed a mistletoe in the entryway. By the closing of the day the thing had moved at least thrice before some jerk decided to move it under the dinner table. It went unnoticed until everyone in the house was gathered under it at once. No one kissed and no one fessed up.

 

Sokka was fairly certain that he was the only one who had heard Ozai grumble, “if I find that thing one more time Imma tossin’ it in the fireplace.” He was also quite sure that he hear Iroh chuckle about how brilliant has plan to hang it over the dining room table was.

But Sokka chalked that up to some fever dream. It was easier than accepting the possibility of Azula’s kind and demure uncle having a mischievous streak. 

 

Of course Sokka hadn’t minded when TyLee had moved the mistletoe above Azula’s bed. She was still awkward about sharing kisses with him, red faced and needlessly careful. He was under the impression that he was the first boy she’d ever fancied. 

 

By day three, they’d well and driven her father half-mad. Between the soft giggles and the affectionate prodding, it had become ridiculously hard for the man to deny that his daughter had her first boyfriend. 

 

“I know you been ‘round here a lot,  boy.” Ozai remarked on the fourth morning. “Yer a bit dull up there…” he pointed to Sokka’s head.

 

“Azula has mentioned that ‘fore.” 

 

“But yer a hard werkin’ young man. I like you well a’nuff. So don’t give me a reason ta…” 

 

Sokka didn’t let him finish. “I ain’t gonna do anythin’ dumb...er than usual.”

 

“I ain’t want to come home one day ‘n find out that she’s pregnant.” He continued regardless, leaving Sokka a brighter shade of red than he thought possible. “‘N you best treat her right, I ain’t wanna gome home one night ‘n find her writing sad breakup songs ‘bout you.”

 

Sokka’s didn’t think that it was even possible for his face to get redder than it was. “I won’t git ‘er pregnant. ‘N I won’t make ‘er cry either.” She’d probably make him cry if that was a task for anyone. “Ya ain’t had ta worry ‘bout me ‘fore, ‘n ya ain’t gotta worry ‘bout me now.” 

 

The narrowing of Ozai’s eyes told Sokka that the man was skeptical. He supposed that he should have expected as much. The man was protective of Azula. Sokka spared a glance at the fireplace where three pictures hung. One captured Ozai tossing a football to Zuko. The second photo showed the man helping Azula adjust the position of a baseball bat in her teeny eight year old hands. In the third, both siblings were atop his shoulders; Zuko’s head was tossed back in laughter and Azula grinned wider than he’d ever seen and with a twinkle in her eyes that could only be found in those of a child. And Ozai, the man looked as prideful as a father with kids like that ought to. Sokka speculated that Ursa had been behind the camera, at the very least, behind the camera of that third one.

 

According to Azula, most family photos featuring their mother had been taken down to spare Zuko a sense of crushing despair at the reminder of the woman he lost. He always had been a mama’s boy and losing her had torn him apart. 

 

“Promise, I won’t anythin’ to upset ‘er.” 

 

“I know.” Ozai replied. “But I just wan’ed to warn you. If anythin’ happens to my daughter, I will find you and I will will make you scream like one’a them goats when we ferget to feed ‘em.” 

 

Sokka shifted in his chair. He’d been threatened before, but never quite like that. He backtracks, recalling that he actually had; apparently Azula learned how to threaten people from her father.

 

Sokka didn’t quite know how to deal with that one so he simply replied with a, “thanks fer the warning?”

 

“No problem, boy.” Ozai replied in a more uplifting tone of voice. “T’was a good talk.” 

 

Sokka begged to differ, but he didn’t make mention as Ozai wandered to join his brother in front of the television.

 

**.oOo.**

 

Peering out at the snow, it hit Azula hard. It had been a very good few days, but the holidays were always hard. Ursa may not have died anywhere near them--no, she had passed in the summer, burned out like a summer sunset, Iroh said--but she had loved the holidays more than anyone Azula knew in her short life. 

 

She remembered, fondly crafting a gingerbread house with the woman and Zuko. Though Azula couldn’t really say that she had been building it, more or less she kept picking off the gumdrops and popping them into her mouth when Ursa and Zuko turned away. She’d only gotten caught when she’d run off to give her father one of her steals and the man loudly declared, “get me a red one next.” 

 

Azula smiled at the memory, but it brought a wetness to her cheeks. It was one of the few moments where Ursa hadn’t been absent with her. One of the few times where her depression hadn’t had it’s grip on her. “I miss ‘er Sokka.” She mumbled. On days like these she would wonder how things could have been. 

 

Bitterly, she thought that, had Ursa not fell to alcohol poisoning, that things could have been righted between them. That Ursa could have been in that recording studio with her. That thought was somehow more tear jerking than thinking the woman would have scorned her forever. “She’d have loved this.” Azula gestured to the wintery world outside. “She’d have loved you…”

 

Sokka scooped her into his arms and rubbed her back. “I think the same about my fa sometimes, I know he ain’t gone, gone. But he ain’t never home. Sometimes I think I’m the dad ‘round my farm.” 

 

“‘Least yer father’s comin’ back.” Azula muttered. “My ma ain’t.”

 

“It ain’t yer fault.” He mumbles. 

 

“I…” she trailed off. She was going to say that she knew. But did she? Did she know? After hearing her song for the first time, her father had made it pretty clear that it wasn’t her fault. He’d told her that Ursa mentioned wanting to close the distance between she and Azula. That the woman had been seeking treatment before the alcohol took her. 

“I know.”

 

**.oOo.**

 

Sokka smiled. But the sadness didn’t come to pass. He was waiting for Azula to start crying...and for Ozai to come storming up the stairs with an ass beating on the horizon. But she didn’t cry, not even a soft sob. She was frowning terribly deeply and her eyes were some misty. But the tears never fell. Instead she burrowed deeper into her blankets. 

 

“I have an ider.”

 

“Is it a dumb one?” Azula muttered. “It’s a dumb one ain’t it, Sokka?”

 

“Naw! It ain’t!” He declared. “Not this time.”

 

Azula sighed. “What is it?”

 

“I were just thinkin’ that maybe ya can release yer album on ‘er birthday! ‘N ya ken dedicate it to ‘er. My ma says that, from wherever they are now, lost loved ones ken still hear them kin’a things.”

 

Azula’s frown faded. “I suppose that ain’t too dumb an idea.”

 

“It’s brill’nt.” 

 

“Maybe a ‘lil.” Azula replied, a hint of a smirk appearing on her face. “You best not get too happy, you just used up yer one smart idea fer the year and you ain’t gonna have another fer a very long time.”

 

“That’s a’right wit me. I think I done used it well.”

 

He watched the rest of the somber clear out of her expression and he knew that he’d used it well.


	20. Ponds & Piglets

Winter passed into sping and Azula wasn’t sad to see the cold off. Though it had been rather nice to have an excuse to get cozy with Sokka; one that allowed her dad to pretend that his daughter didn’t have her first boyfriend.

 

With the weather warmed, the time to release her first album was approaching fast. She pearched herself on the tire-swing from the branches of an age old willow by the small duck pond in her yard, feeling a warm gust stirring her hair into tangles. She just had to wait for Sokka’s second opinion to put the final touches on her final song. Her stomach fluttered at the prospect of starting the recording process. 

It was finally starting to seem as real as she knew it was.

 

She kicked her feet at the ground and set the tire swing in motion. She could smell the perfume of honeysuckle and meadowsweet among other floras. Off in the distance Zuko’s voice carried, he was grumbling something about bees making his job more difficult. She knew then that, that was why Ozai wasn’t anywhere near the garden--the man was allergic to the insects. 

 

Gazing out at the small pond she recalled fondly, spring days when she and Zuko would run about the garden, either playing tag or jumping through sprinklers until their dad turned the hose off and scolded them for using up so much water. They would then take to tossing a frisbee or blowing bubbles. 

On such an afternoon, TyLee would be dashing across the yard catching butterflies and ladybugs and showing them off to Mai. 

 

Azula gave something between a sigh and a laugh--at least some things didn’t change. Since the healing of her leg, TyLee had been making a point of dashing about whenever an opportunity presented itself. And when no opportunity came, she created one for herself. “I caught one!” She shouted. 

 

“You caught one several times a’ready.” Mai rolled her eyes. 

 

Azula scanned the garden for Iroh, until she found him in the garden by Zuko, wearing his ridiculous straw hat. She was left to assume that the old man was gathering the perfect herbs for his teas. Teas which always tasted the best in the springtime. 

 

Azula pushed her shades back up the bridge of her nose and brought the tire swing to a halt. “Sokka.” She spoke, not meaning to sound quite so cold. 

 

“Ya havin’ a bad day?”

 

Azula shook her head. 

 

“Then why y’all greetin’ me like that fer?” 

 

Azula shrugged. “It’s jus’ how I talk is all.” 

 

He slung his arm around her neck and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. 

 

“What took you so long to git here?” Azula asked. 

 

“Had ta mow the lawn ‘n stuff.” He replied. “Ain’t ya got any werk ta git done?”

 

Azula hummed in thought. “Normally I’d be workin’ with cows ‘n pigs. But father wants me to mostly focus on my songs. I’m almos’ done with those though.” 

 

“Speakin’ a pigs…”

 

“Over there.” She pointed to were Spade was trotting across the field, looking for all the world, like the world’s happiest piglet. “He’s doin’ much better now that he ain’t need to be buried under so many blankets.” 

 

“We still talkin’ ‘bout the pig or are we talkin’ ‘bout ‘chu.” 

 

“I were talkin’ ‘bout the pig, Sokka.” Azula replied, well aware that her words certainly did apply to her as well. She pulled herself out of the tire swing, picked up the guitar she had left resting against the tree, and led Sokka to the dock. Once there she put her boots to the side and dipped her toes into the water. It was still a tad chilly to shed her top for a swim, but it was nice enough for kicking her feet at the surface. 

 

She watched a dragonfly skim the surface and looked to Sokka. The boy spoke first, “so what songs am I lookin’ at taday?”

 

“Actually I was hopin’ to ask you if you wanted to sing some of them wit me…”

 

His smile gave his face a charming boyish glow. “I’d sing all’a them wit ya. Jus’ go ‘n ask.” 

 

She thought that, maybe on her second album she would. Being one half of a musical duo didn’t seem as lonely as going completely solo. “Great, of course I want you to sing the one you helped me write…” She listed three or four more that she thought she could fit his vocals on to, watching his face brighten more and more with every track she offered him a part on. 

 

“I were also thinkin’ ‘bout lettin’ Mai ‘n TyLee sing on one of them. Mai said she ain’t like singin’ though.” 

 

Frankly, Azula was glad that TyLee had taken her up on the offer, it allievatied that much more guilt for having ruined her shot at the blue ribbon and a trophy. “I wrote a song ‘bout a ridin’ horses specifically for her to sing.” 

 

“Adorable.” Sokka ruffled her hair. 

 

“Quit that.” Azula swatted at his hand with a defiant pout. If the boy kept it up, she’d have him in the pond with a pair of wet socks and underpants for a lesson. Naturally, her words only made him ruffle her hair more. With a good heave there was a splash that had both Mai and TyLee turn their heads. Hastily, Azula retracted her legs from the water before Sokka could pull her down too. Not that doing so had deterred him from springing out of the water and tackling her in with him. 

 

“Great, now I’m gonna smell like pond water.” Azula grumbled. 

 

“Y’all have a shower in yer house.” 

 

Azula gave an indigent sniff, knowing very well that she had brought this one on herself, at least to some degree. “You know what you are, Sokka?” 

 

“The best boyfr’en a cowgirl ken ask fer?” He asked hopefully.

 

“Look over there.” Azula pointed at a flock of roosters that were giving the ground jittery pecks. “Yer one’a them.”

 

“Gee, thanks.” 

 

Azula climbed back onto the dock and squeezed her shirt and hair out, before helping Sokka fish himself out of the pond. 

 

She barely got him onto the dock when TyLee flug herself into the water with an absurdly passionate “yee haw!” 

 

“Y’all have got to be kiddn’ me.” Mai huffed at the splotches of water on her cheeks and sundress. “Can’t ya’ll stick to blowin’ bubbles or somethin’?” 

 

“It’s nice ‘n dry over here!” Zuko called. 

 

“Nice ‘n muddy too.” 

 

“Mud or water, Mai.” Azula presented her two options. 

 

She thought for a moment. “I reckon I need to keep Zuko company.” 

 

“We ain’t gonna get nothin’ done on my songs, are we?” Azula asked as TyLee shouted for her to join her in the water. 

 

“Yer songs are already perfect.” Sokka replied as he dived back in. Upon surfacing, he added, “stop stressin’ over it ‘n come join us.” 

 

She wasn’t one to toss her duties to the wind. But lord, if there was a time to give it a try…

She supposed that she didn’t know how many opportunities she had left to do something like this.

Everyone liked to say that fall is the season of change, but she knew deep down that, for her, spring would be the season of change. Hopefully the pleasant kind. And with luck, it would be such for TyLee as well; the first stretch of the horse race season would be mid-month and if she qualified to move forward, she’d be going to the nationwide races in the same summer Azula would ideally depart for her first tour if her album gained any traction.

 

For the time being, Azula put her guitar aside--she’d have more than enough quality time with it soon enough--and slipped herself into the pond. 

 

Any moment now, Iroh would wander up with his camera, snap a few photos, and declare, “fer the scrapbook.”  And everyone would take a moment to roll their eyes before resuming activity. 

 

“Eh, Sokka, did’ja know that there are snakes in here?” Azula slyly implored. 

 

The boy jolted and the next thing she knew, she was carrying the boy, much to the delight of TyLee who squealed a, “that’s so cute!” 

 

“There ain’t really snakes in here, are there?” 

 

Azula thought for a moment. “There were one, once.” 

 

“What are y’all doin’?” Ozai asked running an exasperated hand over his face. “Whad I tell you ‘bout swimmin’ in the pond wit yer good clothes on?” 

 

“That it’s fine in moderation?” Azula smiled. 

 

Ozai rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Yer doin’ yer own laundry tonight.” 

 

“You think Spade can swim?” Azula heard TyLee question. 

 

“Dad?” Azula called as the man walked. He stopped to glance at her. “Can you do me a favor ‘n fetch me a piglet?” 

 

Ozai crossed the yard, picked Spade up mid-stride, and handed him to Azula. 

 

**.oOo.**

 

“Yer the best, Azula’s pops.” Sokka gave him a thumbs up. 

 

Ozai rolled his eyes. His daughter certainly had a bizarre taste in lovers. “I better be the best after everythin’ y’all put me through.” 

 

“Yer gonna miss it when I’m all famous ‘n can’t do it no more.” Azula insisted. 

 

At her words. face flickered from mild amusement to something else, something more somber. He didn’t want to think about that right then. He could see it on her face that it was just playful talk. Just harmless banter, as if she didn’t think she had it in her to make it big enough for those words to ring true. 

 

“You bet I’m gonna miss it.” He mumbled more to himself. 

 

“Wha’d ya say?” TyLee asked as she hovered Spade above the water, watching him kick his stubby legs as though he were still swimming. 

 

“I said, y’all better not drip water all over my carpets when y’all come inside.” 

 

“That ain’t what you said.” Azula grumbled. 

 

“I’ll see the lot of y’all at dinner.” Ozai responded, hopefully bringing the conversation to a close. He supposed that he was going to have to come up with some kind of talk. Tell her to be careful and do her best out there. Tell that boy to take care of her if she chose to bring him along. 


	21. Bottlerocket Brilliance

It wasn’t quite dark yet, the sky hung somewhere between a soft indigo and the black of night. At the very bottom of the horizon, Azula could see the last tinges of orange and gold. Soft pops and sparkles danced in various spots in the yard. 

 

“Hey, over here! Pass me one!” Toph shouted.

 

Azula watched Jet rummage through a cooler and toss Toph a bottle of orange-cream pop. For the most part she had gotten good at sensing where objects were, but this time the bottle fell to the grass and she had to stoop down and feel for it. 

 

Across the way, TyLee was weaving flowers into the hair of Zuko and Mai. Near the treeline Katara was waving a sparkler in front of Aang and waiting for him to try to imitate her motions. A little ways away, on the hill, her father and Iroh were working to set up for the firework display. 

 

Azula herself was seated on one of the picnic tables in her yard with a plate in hand. Three attempts in--the first two being chilly in the middle--later she finally had an edible hotdog on her plate and a boyfriend sitting next to her looking entirely pleased with himself. “Not bad fer my first time on the grill.” He commented. 

 

“Eh, coulda been better.” Azula shrugged. 

 

“Hey!” 

 

Azula smiled at him and picked a slice of watermelon off of her plate. 

 

“I werked hard on them first two.” He added in a mumble. 

 

“Ya sure did, but they still tasted mighty awful.” Azula replied with a shrug. 

 

“No! No! You scram! Git!” She heard her dad hollar from the hilltop. She looked over to see Tom-Tom and a pack of rouge school children rolling down the hill giggling and squealing in delight. Noticing the commotion, Mai stood to retrieve her brother. The boy took off in a wild sprint, leaving Mai groaning as she tried to catch up to that human ball of energy. He darted about, nearly slamming into Zuko and shoving between Suki and Yue. The poor girl was so startled that she dropped her bombpop onto Suki’s toes. “I knew I shoulda worn sneakers, stead’a sandals.”  The girl muttered.

 

“I got ‘im!” TyLee shouted, darting in Tom-Tom’s direction

 

Azula wasn’t one for pictures or videos but she turned her camera to follow the mini-frenzy. She was going to miss this brand of small-town chaos. At least the videos would give her something to assure her that she would never lose the feel of it. 

 

Tossing her father’s no pigs at the table rule to the side, she lifted Spade onto the wood. She supposed that picnic tables weren’t the same as dinner tables anyhow. She wondered if she could smuggle him onto the plane. 

 

“Hey!” Chan called from by the picket fence, waving she and Sokka over. “Com’mer fer a moment.” 

 

Azula took Sokka’s hand and led him to where Chan was leaning, plastic cup of pepsi in hand. “Just wanted ta congratulate you fer yer record deal. Yer gonna get to go to them big parties now.” He made a grand sweeping gesture. “You’ll have to invite me ta one a them one day.” 

 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Azula replied. Of course she had his request on camera so she would be forgetting it that easily.

 

She stared out at the rolling open field beyond her fence. She didn’t think she had ever seen so many fireflies. The critters were everywhere floating and drifting lazily like dust motes. They blinked on and off at random intervals. It was yet another thing she was happy to have caught in her lenses. 

 

“Gochya!” She heard TyLee declare as Tom-Tom whined in disappointment and disbelief. 

 

“Praise the lord.” Mai grumbled. “Lil’ demon, that one.” 

 

“Aww, he ain’t no demon.” 

 

“Wanna sip?” Chan offered, drawing her attention back. 

 

“Got my own, thanks.” Azula replied. 

 

“Hey, well, we’re gonna miss you over here.” Chan gestured between he, Ruon-Jian, and the rest of his gaggle of boys. “How ‘bout a toast? Yer dorky boyfren’ can join us too.” 

 

“Dorky!?” Sokka sputtered. 

 

“To makin’ it big.” Chan declared. 

 

Azula tapped her cup against his, hoping that the toast wasn’t premature. Chan gave her a wide smile and a thumbs up. With that and a wave, she set off to meet up with Zuko. It was dark enough for her father to begin setting off the fireworks. She made her way through smoke bombs and dodged stray poppers that Toph was chasing Aang with. 

 

“Get yer teeny butt back here Twinkle Toes, you ain’t afraid of a few sparks are ya?” She teased. 

 

“I kinda am, actually.” Aang confessed as she tossed one at his toes. “Katara, help me!” 

 

Katara tried to stifle a laugh.

 

“Should we…?” Azula started.

 

“Nah, Kat can handle Toph. She does it all the time.”

 

Azula dropped herself onto the blanket Zuko had spread out for he and Mai and patted the ground next to her. “Well. Sit.”

 

“But ain’t that Zuko’s blanket?” Sokka asked. 

 

Azula thought for a moment, tapping her chin as Spade made himself nice and cozy in her lap. “If he wanted it so bad, then he shouldn’t have left it open.” 

 

TyLee flounced up next them and laid herself, belly-down, on the blanket. “Gee, it sure were nice of Zuko to set up this here blanket for us.” 

 

“I set that up for Mai and I.” He grumbled. 

 

“Finders keepers.” Azula retorted smugly. 

 

“Guess I’m sittin’ in your lap.” Mai declared to her boyfriend. 

 

Ozai waited for the last few to acquire their snacks and gather around. As soon as Iroh and Kya got the children to settle, Ozai lit the first. It sailed into the air with a sparkling gold tail, upon reaching its zenith it burst into a twinkling rain. One after the other, roman candles and bottle rockets spit fire and sparks into the sky. Azula hoped that she would shine as bright as them once she took to the stars. Stroking, Spade’s fur, Azula gazed at her semi-crowded yard. Chan still leaned upon the picket fence, this time facing skyward, occasionally cursing as a scrap of firework floated down into his drink. Tom-Tom was snuggled up in his mother’s arms as she protective shield his ears from the blasts. A few of the older children paid the fireworks little attention as they tried to catch fireflies. And Toph was still chasing Aang all around the yard. Sokka wiggled his way closer, putting his left arm around her and leaned into to press the side of his head against hers. 

 

Colorful flashes illuminated much of the backyard and she thought of how Chan and Jet used to tell ghost stories about wild and unknown creatures dragging party-goers and campers into the forest between sparkling burts. She recalled one summer where Suki had made it her mission to dress up as such a creature and steal Ruon-Jian. 

 

With a gentle fluttering in her belly, Azula wondered if she was going to have another moment like that or like the one she was having now. She wondered if this was going to be the last real summer barbecue she was going to have with her friends and family. 

She supposed that she best cherish the moment in full and keep that camera close. 

 

After the firework display a few neighbors began their goodbyes and their promises to come back for the next barbeque. In spurts guests would depart until their crowd dwindled down to a few stragglers and their closest friends and relatives. Soon Mai’s mother left to take Tom-Tom to bed--being it was already far past his normal bedtime--with instructions to Mai to have a safe trip home.

 

For herself, Azula wandered onto the dock with Spade in her arms and TyLee and Sokka beside her. As always, she dipped her feet into the water, watching fireflies flicker between stalks of catkins. The pond had a more fishy smell even without the summer sun to make the scent worse. She knew that soon Iroh and Ozai would be using it to fish before going to bigger ponds and lakes. That they would soon begin planning their annual camping trip. The same one that allowed she and Zuko to always begin their summer shenanigans--it was just one more small little thing that she would miss. 

 

“Congrats on making it to state.” Azula smiled. 

 

TyLee offered a soft, somewhat somber smile in return. Azula wouldn’t be the only one leaving home for a good while. “I’m gonna miss it here, ya know?”

 

“Absolutely.” Azula replied.  

 

TyLee perked back up. “Thanks!” She declared. “For the congrats. I’m really excited, after the whole broken leg thing, I didn’t think I were gonna get anywhere. But now…” she paused. “I might be a professional horse racer!” 

 

“You earned it Ty. You been practicin’ real hard.”

 

“I’m really gonna miss the both’a y’all” Sokka admitted. Azula could swear she heard his voice crack. She looks to the pond and its collection of fireflies drifting lazily over the water. She caught a glimpse of a toad croaking before it leapt beneath the surface. For a while they were quiet with only said croaking and the chirps of crickets to fill that silence. 

 

“‘Bout that, Sokka.” Azula started. “I was actually hopin’ that you’d come with me. It’d be awful hard to try ‘n sing your parts on stage.” 

 

Sokka’s face lit up, but fell almost immediately. “I don’t think I ken afford--”

 

Azula hushed him. “You better not say no, father already bought yer plane ticket.” 

 

“Yer pops is a nice man. I outta give ‘im a hug.” 

 

Azula punched his shoulder. “Don’t you dare. He ain’t like those.” 

 

Zuko and Mai come to join them on the dock with Katara, Toph, and Aang following close. Even Chan, Jet, and Suki tagged along. “Got somethin’ for you, Azula.” Zuko greeted. 

 

Azula turned to see them holding up a small cupcake. “We each added something to it.” Aang remarked. “I drew the icing smiley faces.”

 

Zuko pulled out a pack of sparklers. “I figered we could all light ‘em up tagether, one last time ‘for life goes on.”  Azula knew at once that he wasn’t just talking about her and TyLee’s new found stardom, but about his own plans for college as well. 

 

Azula gave a small grin. “I think we can all do that.” 

 

They each reached into the pack and picked out a single sparkler. “Do the honors?” Sokka offered to Azula. She took the lighter and lit her sparkler and used that to light Sokka’s. Sokka turned and lit TyLee’s and TyLee’, Mai’s. And then Mai lit Zuko’s, until everyone had a sparkler burning. It was a dazzling display that reflected in the pond. 

In that moment, nothing had changed at all. They were just a large circle of long time, small town friends sharing conversation and laughs as midnight transitioned into very early morning. 

Just long time, small town friends, on a typical summer night. 

 

**.oOo.**

 

“I know you got your camera, but I want you to have this too.” Iroh handed Azula the small book. He observed her as she looked it over, turning to the page with the photo of she and her companions standing at the pond with sparklers. 

Between the mighty sound of plans departing, Azula offered her thank you’s. Ozai listened to his brother and daughter converse. 

 

With nothing else to do her turned to Sokka, “you best take care’a her, boy.” He narrowed his eyes. “If you ain’t take care’a her, I will steal every last cow your family owns.” 

 

“I’m purtty sure she ken take care’a herself.” Sokka pointed out. “But I’ll help.” 

 

“You better, boy. You better.” Ozai folded his arms over his chest. He didn’t doubt that the boy would, he had always seemed to look out for Azula in the past, but it didn’t hurt none to give him a good ol’ fashioned mild threat. 

 

“Hey, thanks fer the tickets, Azula’s pops. We’re gonna have a great time.” Sokka spoke in way of a goodbye. 

 

Ozai watched him dash to catch up to Azula. He allowed Iroh and Zuko to finish their conversations with Azula before coming to her side. He was just as little for cuddles and fluffy gestures as Azula was. But he didn’t push his daughter away when she wrapped her arms around him. He curled one arm around her and pat her head twice with the other. “Don’t you get into any trouble out there, you understand me?” 

 

“I know, father.”

 

“There’s gonna be boys ‘n booze, ‘n I ain’t want you mixed up in none’a that.” 

 

“I know.” Azula repeated, already looking tired of the conversation. But he was her father and it was his right to give her a well-meaning lecture every now and again.

 

“I ain’t wanna have to fly all the way over to wherever you are to come help you.” He would, but, lord, he didn’t want to. “So you stick to the music and you keep yourself out’a trouble. Also don’t get too close to that Sokka boy, if you know what I mean. You don’t know what I’ll do to ‘im if...”

 

“Dad…” Azula grumbled, her cheeks delicately flushed. 

 

“Just…” He trailed off. “Just make your pops proud. Make your ma proud, I know she would be.” He squeezed her shoulder. 

 

“I will father.” 

 

He knew that she would. Still, it was hard to let her go. And harder still to watch her wave as she ascended the stairs to the airplane.

 

“You raised some good kids.” Iroh took a stand next to him. “Both’a them are gonna go far.” 

 

Ozai sure hoped so. He watched the plane shrink into a small speck in the sky. He supposed that the next time he’d be seeing his daughter, it would be on TV. 

 

“Wha’do ya say we start packin’ fer our own trip?” 

 

“My fishin’ pole’s already in the truck.”


End file.
